When in doubt, jump in head first
by Luna's little noodle
Summary: In another life, James and Lily survive Halloween 1981, and these Potters are willing to do anything to keep their son safe. Anything. 14 years later, their solution is whisked away to Middle Earth. DISCLAIMER! I own my OCs — the Hobbit and Harry Potter belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and J. K. Rowling respectively. Also on Ao3 and Wattpad.
1. All I wanted was the bathroom

There was a flash of light. Blinding in it's brightness, it threw the dank stone walls into sharp relief and deposited a figure into the centre of the cave. When it vanished, the shadows swooped back to their rightful places, cloaking the girl who had appeared in darkness. She sprung to her feet, ebony-black hair swinging in it's braid as her head whipped back and forth, surveying the room. Emerald green eyes, similar to fractured glass in their sharpness, searched for threats. Finding none the girl relaxed fractionally, and loosened the rein on her curiosity.

She was in a cave, and the most noticeable thing was the horrible smell. A delicate button nose wrinkled, trying to block out the stench that permeated the cave. It smelled worse than the dungbombs that kept getting let off near her room.

The girl pulled out a wooden stick from her boot. It was just longer than her forearm, Mallorn wood etched with patterns of power and protection. As it was swept through the air, it let out a wave of freesia-scented air, and the girl released the breath she'd been holding.

She searched the cave walls for an exit, a door, a passage. She could not pop from the inside to the outside of the cave without knowing first the appearance of the outside, so could not escape using that method. Fingers trailed along the walls and eyes looked for an exit hiding beneath the floor, yet nothing was found.

There were quite a few weapons around the room, interspersed in piles of gold and jewellery. Stuffing some of the gold coins and finer-looking jewellery in a pouch she had fastened round her neck, she meandered over to the largest supply of weapons. _I'm only taking stuff because I need it_, she defended weakly, but she knew the real reason was quite different.

The girl reached for a sheath at random, pulling away cobwebs and inspecting the sword. It was a long and narrow blade, and the balance was astonishingly good. The hilt fit perfectly in her hands, and under her fingers the sword sang of the warriors who wielded it, and the battles it had fought in. The sheath was leather, but in the dim light the designs were unclear. She strapped it to her waist, and the set of two dozen throwing knives next to it were quickly attached to her arms and legs, hidden under her clothing and the charm she had put upon everything she picked up.

The girl re-appropriated some more weapons, particularly happy with the bow she had found. The string had deteriorated, however the bow itself was fine, as well as the sheath of arrows with it. She yanked a strand of hair from her braid, numb to the pain, and waved her stick over it. The hair grew in length and sturdiness, until it was a bowstring, which was quickly strung. The quiver also had the wand waved over it, though the effects were not immediately visible.

She had also pilfered quite a bit of jewellery, shoving most into her pouch to sell later. A pendant was looped around her neck, though, simply because she admired the green jewel in the centre of the tree, and she might as well keep something frivolous for herself

The girl also had found a few outfits, and looking at her own clothes, quickly changed. Charms were cast to clean and mend the clothes, and shrink them to fit her as well. Overall, she had re-purposed a blouse that was cream under the grime, trousers and boots and a chest guard made of leather, and a money belt she could use to fool attackers.

* * *

><p>After an hour (though she could not be sure, she had no way to tell the time), the small amount of light outside seemed to brighten, and the girl suspected the sun was rising. She stood under one of the small rays of light streaming into the cave, and sighed in bliss as it touched her face. Drinking it in, she rotated on the spot, content. She soon went to continue her examination.<p>

Suddenly, a large crack wrent the air, and the girl, who had been examining the quality of a deep purple cloak, jumped. Unsheathing her new sword and lifting her stick, she stood prepared to fight.

A few minutes passed, and nothing happened. Lowering her weapons, the girl continued her perusal of the hoard, pulling the soft cloak onto her shoulders. She had just decided to try and open one of the barrels when she heard voices from beyond the cave.

Straining her ears, the girl was able to make out a few snatches of conversation. Enough to realise the people outside were searching for a key. Pulling out her stick and sword, she took a moment to look around the cave, to see if there was any danger she had somehow missed. There was none she could find, however, so the girl took a deep breath, before calling out.

"Hello? Is anyone out there?" Her voice came out breathy and near silent, yet the voices outside, which had been getting louder, became quiet. She stood, berating herself for revealing her presence (they could be Death Eaters for all you know!), when there was a great creaking and groaning, and a section of the wall previously ordinary swung inward like a door.

The girl retreated to the shadows behind the wall as a tall man walked in. He was made taller by the pointed hat on his head, and the heights of the others who accompanied him; the tallest was nearly two head shorter than the other, for goodness sake. The tall man and one of the shorter ones were arguing.

"—I say I _heard_ something in here—"

"And I say we search the Troll horde for supplies." _Troll _horde? "If there is another troll in here we can kill it. Now, get looking for food." With that, the group spread out.

There were cries of success as a couple of the men pried open the lids of the barrels (that she had been meaning to open) to reveal dried meats and ale. They started rolling them out, lightly talking about how they'd be able to eat a filling meal. Another few had started filling a chest with gold, saying "It would be a shame to leave it lying about" and digging a hole to bury it in.

The short man had picked up some swords she had passed by, content with her blade, while the one with the pointed hat was also looking about the cave.

"It smells quite pleasant for a Troll horde," he said, suspicion lightly colouring his tone. The other didn't listen.

"These swords were made by no troll," he said to the tall one.

"Nor were they made by any smith of Man," he replied, picking up a second sword and drawing it from it sheath to see the blade. "They were made in Gondolin by the High Elves of First Age." The other made to put his sword down in disgust, while the girl's mind was turning over this information.

_I suppose my blade is of the same make_, she thought, _but what does he mean, High Elves? And the First Age, what's that about_? She refocused on the pair when the taller began speaking again.

"You could not wish for a finer blade," he said, seemingly annoyed with the other man, who reluctantly picked the sword back up. They began to make their way out of the cave, when the girl sneezed.

_Shit_, was the only thing she could think, before she was bodily lifted by the short man, and thrown in the dirt outside the cave. Blinking to adjust her eyes to the light, she saw she was surrounded by a larger group of men then that that had entered the cave. All had beards and facial hair done in elaborate braids and styles, except one who looked very young, and another that was a head shorter than any of the others and had a riot of curls. Most of them had swords or battle axes pointed at her.

"Why were you in that cave?" asked the tall one, leaning on his staff. The others were also looking at her interestedly. She decided to stick to the truth, and took a deep breath of _fresh_ air before replying.

"I don't know; one minute I was just heading to to wash up, next I'm lying on the floor of a cave," most of them seemed mollified by her answer, though the one who had been disgusted by the sword in the cave still looked suspicious. She also couldn't forget her manners; years of them being nearly beaten into her made that nigh impossible, "Thank you by the way, for getting me out of there."

The man with the hat (and now she could see his outfit, that was _way _too much grey for one person) had moved to give the really short man a really short sword (fitting, she supposed), and was talking with him. The others had started to discuss what to do with her.

"Something's coming," yelled the man who'd been disgusted by the sword (and she really needed a name for him), and most of the men ran into the bushes. The tall and really short man also ran off, leaving the girl behind. Huffing, she followed, because she was not letting her only hope at getting anywhere leave her behind.

Catching up with them, she starred in no small amount of shock as a man rode up on a sled pulled by rabbits. "Thieves! Fire! Murder!" he yelled as he slowed to a stop, eyes darting and wild.

"Ah, Radagast the Brown," said the man with the pointed hat (ok, as soon as possible she was getting everyone's names, if only to stop referring to them by stupidly long characteristics). "What ever are you doing here?" he continued, and as the two slowly walked a bit of a ways away, the short men split up to talk amongst themselves. The girl crouched to the ground next to the rather large and rather frightened rabbits.

"Ah, shh, shh," she tried to calm them, using a soothing tone of voice and stroking the lead one softly. "Shh, you're ok, you're ok. Why don't you tell me your names?" The girl just kept repeating platitudes, and asking small questions, and slowly, slowly, they calmed. Soon, she had a lapful of rabbits, and was giggling, noticing but deciding to dismiss the eyes she could feel on her (she could also hear the scratching of a quill). "Bella sit down," she said, trying to get as many on her lap as she could at one time.

"I've never seen them act like _that _near a human before," Radagast (one name down, 15 more to go) said. Apparently the two had returned. The girl sprung from her seat like a spark from a fire — that is to say, haphazardly and ending up on the ground.

"Sorry," she said to the dirt, though she wasn't really. She would treasure this opportunity for as long as she could: it was one of the few moments she'd had where she could be happy without fear of repercussions. Wait, what did he mean, human? Like she was one. She snorted: as if.

"Oh no my dear, it's not a bad thing," he reassured her, "In fact, it's wonderful! To find a human who is so in tune with nature—" Radagast was cut short by the sound of a howl in the distance. It was a chilling sound, renting the air and ripping apart the tentative calm that the group had been in before. It reminded her of a werewolf's howl, the few times she had heard it.

"W–was that a wolf?" questioned the shortest man, quaking in terror, "Are there — are there wolves out there?"

"Wolves," one of the dwarves spoke up (she really was kicking herself for not realising it sooner — humans weren't that short unless they were children. Thank goodness she hadn't called any of them men out loud, because that would nearly be worse than cutting off one of their _beards_. She still didn't know what the shortest one was, though). He also had on a stupid looking hat. "No, that's no wolf."

Suddenly, a wolf jumped from a nearby crag onto a dwarf, but it couldn't be a wolf, because no wolf was that large, nor had jaws pulled in such a permanent snarl. Before it could do anything, an arrow was sent from another dwarf, and a third killed it as it tried to stand.

"Warg-Scouts!" hello again, Mr. I-Don't-Like-Elvish-Blades, "An Orc Pack must not be far behind." The girl didn't know what Orcs were, but the very word sent chills down her spine and her entire body seemed to scream "_WRONG!_"

The man in grey (and he wasn't a man. Neither he nor Radagast were human now she'd had time to study them) started to talk to the lead dwarf (she'd have to be blind and deaf to not realise), but Radagast went over to the girl.

"I'd like to talk to you," he said, and when she looked at him in disbelief (they were about to be _attacked _by Wargs), he quickly added, "Once you get to Rivendell. We can talk then." She slowly nodded, and that seemed to be the confirmation he needed. The not-a-man spoke to the rest of the group.

"I'll draw them off," Radagast said boldly, and the girl felt her heart clench for him, even though they had had spoken only twice, and she had only said a single word the entire time.

"These are Gundabad Wargs, they will outrun you," said the other not-a-man, and that was worry in his tone, she was sure. Radagast only smirked.

"These are Rhosgobel Rabbits; I'd like to see them try."

* * *

><p><strong>Hello everyone! This is my first multi-chapter story; I've been writing it for a while, but I decided to start the new year by publishing it (yes, it took me a day to get the courage to post this). I'm also posting it on Ao3 and Wattpad, so don't worry if you see it there. I don't really have an updating schedule, and once school starts back up they'll come slower. Also, if you're here for any sort of romance; sorry to disappoint, but I can't write that. So any romance you see will be side only, and unimportant to the plot.<strong>


	2. What's the big deal, anyway?

The dwarves started to get ready to move, and the girl went to the not-a-man on the sled, pausing to stroke the back of each Rabbit, murmuring their name and wishing them speed. "So," she started, once she got to him, "You'll be our distraction. You better not miss our talk," she said, stubbornly not looking at him.

He had a wistful smile on his face, "Of course, my dear, of course. Now, I think Gandalf wants to talk to you." _I suppose that must be the other not-a-man_, she thought, and nodded once at Radagast before going to talk to the figure in grey.

"Ah," he said, when she tapped his elbow, "Yes. Now you must accompany us. Not even the cruelest man would leave a child alone in the Wilds when an Orc Pack is on the move." The girl thought that was perfectly reasonable. Mr I-Don't-Like-Elvish-Blades did not, apparently.

"She will only slow us down," he spoke over her, to her annoyance.

"Now Thorin," he said (yes, one more name for the collection), "We cannot leave her behind." The dwarf still looked like he wanted to argue, but acquiesced with a grunted "Don't get us killed".

* * *

><p>"Come and get me! Ha ha!" Radagast could be heard in the distance, taunting the Orc Pack and leading away the Wargs as Gandalf lead the group of 15 across the stretch of rocky flatland. They darted from rock to rock, pressing themselves against the boulders when the not-a-man would whiz nearby on his sled.<p>

"Ori no!" cried Thorin, and grabbed a dwarf she supposed was named Ori. He looked shocked as not two seconds later Radagast drove by on his sled, trailed closely by the Orc Pack.

Her lungs were starting to burn when they next stopped, but became ice cold as she heard the sound of snuffling behind her. An Orc and Warg had broken off from the main pack, and was now standing directly above their heads. She froze, not daring to even move as the sounds of shuffling got louder and louder. _I don't want to die_, she thought. She mentally slapped herself: _you can be pessimistic later, brain_.

Thorin made a sign of protest at the beardless dwarf (and how horrible that must be), but it was too late, he had turned and shot an arrow at them. Both fell in front of them, wounded, and were quickly killed by some other Dwarves. However, neither had died quietly.

There was silence on the plains.

"Run, run!" cried Gandalf, and the spell was broken. The yips and snarls of Wargs were behind them and in front of them and all around them. The haunting cries of their masters carried on the wind, their harsh words grating on her ears. The group had abandoned all pretences of stealth, and were fleeing after Gandalf as fast as their feet could carry them.

The girl was running as fast as she could, but still keeping an eye out for any danger to the Company. That is why, when Ori was cornered by a Warg and rider, she saw and leapt atop it's back. Knife already in hand, she slit it's throat and jumped in front of the dwarf to protect him from the riderless and very angry Warg.

"Run," she said, and without looking to see if he followed her instructions, dove for the Warg. She dipped and ducked it's snapping jaws, darting around the creature like she was dancing. Seeing her opportunity, she slid under it's belly, slicing open it's stomach with her knife, then rose from the ground as it dropped dead behind her.

Ori was watching her in awe. "Come on!" she snapped, and grabbed his arms, pulling him to the others. They had made it to a rock, and the Orc Pack was closing in on the group. Gandalf has disappeared, but the girl could Feel him beneath the rock … hang on, _beneath _the rock?

"Where's Gandalf?" asked a dwarf. At least they had noticed too.

"He's abandoned us!" cried another. Ori pulled out a slingshot (a slingshot, really?) and started aiming at the Orcs. The beardless dwarf was shooting arrows, which were more effective than the slingshot.

"Stand your ground," yelled Thorin, ready to fight. Gandalf popped up from behind the rock.

"This way, you fools," he said, and started chivvying the dwarves down the hole he had popped out of. The girl stayed behind, shoving the others down the hole until only Thorin and the beardless dwarf remained.

"Kíli, run!" Thorin said, and the other dwarf turned, only to have a Warg leap on him. She ran towards him, unsheathing her hunting knives (she had taken a lot from that cave) and decapitating the Warg before it could do more than breathe in the direction of the dwarf.

"Thanks," said Kíli, but she was already pulling him towards the other dwarf, and once they got there, pushed both in. There was a squawk of indignation as they fell, though she couldn't tell which dwarf it came from. Out of the hole came the sound of one crying "She pushed me!" (and she'd worry about his bruised ego later) as she stared at the approaching Orcs, then jumped down the hole herself.

Landing in a roll, the girl stood up to the faces of more than a few astonished dwarves. She pushed past them to the back of the tunnel, and only paused a moment when the sound of a hunting horn was heard. An Orc fell down the tunnel, an arrow embedded in it's chest. Thorin pulled it out to examine it, and scowled when he recognised it.

"Elves," he spat, and she continued to end of the cavern, where there was the beginning of a path.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it?" asked a dwarf with tattoos on the top of his bald head. She looked back to see what the others would do; she was going to follow it whether they did or not, (seriously, why wouldn't you when behind there are _Orcs_?). Besides, she had to meet Radagast in Rivendell.

"Follow it of course!" cried the dwarf with the stupid hat, and Gandalf murmured an agreement. The group started moving, and the girl fell to the back of the group, staying silent when the not-a-man cast his roving eyes on her. There was a bit of a hold-up when a dwarf with ginger beard and a bit of a stomach got stuck in the narrow passage, but she simply walked up to him and shoved him through the gap, taking care to not let him or any of his hair be harmed.

The group finally got to the top of a valley. She let the air wash over her, and the feeling of relaxation it brought had her feeling boneless. A dwarf pulled her back from where she was swaying near the edge of the cliff, and she profusely thanked him. If she kept acting like a sappy fool, she was going to get _pushed _off the cliff by the dwarves. The girl was also confused by the city nestling in the valley; she had never seen or heard of it before. It was worrying, because she prided herself on being intelligent, and it was obvious Imraldis/Rivendell was well-known.

As the group began to descend, she caught the tail-end of an argument between Thorin and Gandalf. The dwarf was being openly hostile, and the not-a-man was getting more and more annoyed.

"If we are to be successful," Gandalf was saying, "This will need to be handled with tact and respect. Which is why you will leave the talking to me." She hid her giggles behind her hand, and when the two turned questioningly, her face was blank.

* * *

><p>Crossing the bridge to get into the city, there was no small amount of awe coming from parts of the group. The dwarves seemed to be discussing the craftsmanship of the buildings, but she was more interested in their personalities. Because these building were … not alive, maybe, but conscious. <em>Like Hogwarts<em>, she thought. The girl nodded respectfully to the two statues on either side of the bridge, and ignored the marble eyes on her in favour of joining the others.

The dwarves were murmuring amongst themselves distrustfully, while Gandalf was greeted by someone he called Lindir (and apparently Gandalf is also called Mithrandir) … who certainly wasn't human. She supposed he must be an elf, because Thorin's expression was the same as it was in the cave looking at the swords.

"_We heard you had crossed into the Valley_," Lindir said, though his voice sounded more melodious than it had earlier.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond," said Gandalf, and the girl could almost feel more elves entering the valley, though when she turned there was no one in sight (yet).

"My Lord Elrond is not here," answered Lindir, and his voice had lost the musical quality. Horns could be heard, and the group turned to join her looking across the bridge to the group of elves crossing it.

"_Ready weapons_!" called Thorin, and his voice had a guttural undertone, "Hold ranks!" he added, and his voice had lost the note. The dwarves bunched in a circle, shoving her and the hobbit to the centre, and pointing their weapons outward. She was annoyed at being shoved to the middle for protection, and when the Lindir's eyes caught her own, she mouthed 'Can you believe this?'.

He was saved from answering by her sight being cut off as the elves on horses started circling the company, heightening her annoyance: she was only part of this group by chance, and only because she had to meet up with Radagast.

"Gandalf," said the elf who had separated himself from the others. Gandalf bowed.

"Lord Elrond," he said, answering the girl's unspoken question of who he was. When he spoke again, his voice had gained the musical quality Lindir's had had earlier, "_My friend! Where have you been_?"

Elrond replied in the same way, "_We were hunting Orcs that had come up from the South. We slew a number near the Hidden Pass_," the elf then dismounted, and hugged the not-a-man, "Strange for them to come so close to our borders. Something or someone must have drawn them near." His voice had become normal again, and he lifted up a sword (she had seen an Orc holding it earlier), then handed it to Lindir.

Gandalf looked slightly sheepish. "Ah, that may have been us," he said, and he too had returned to a normal tone of voice. Elrond had turned to talk to Thorin.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain," he said, and after a bit Thorin insulted the elf, who turned to Lindir. "_Light the fires, bring forth the wine. We must feed our guests_," he said, and his voice had gotten the musical quality again.

"What's he saying?" asked a dwarf, "Is he offering insult?" The girl was confused, and even more so as the rest of the dwarves began to ready their weapons.

"But he's offering you food," she said, "How is that an insult?" The dwarves had started to discuss this, while the girl found herself the subject of quite a few assessing looks.

"And who is this Gandalf?" asked Elrond. She was a bit miffed at being talked above, but Gandalf answered for her.

"I don't know," he said, "We found in a Troll cave, but before we could ask her anything we were fleeing from Orcs."

"So you don't know why a human no one has met before knows Sindarin?" Elrond questioned again. This time the girl interrupted.

"Sindarin? What's that?" she asked, but before she got an answer, the dwarves had separated.

"Well then, in that case, lead on," the same dwarf who had been offended said. The group was led away, and the other eves broke off in groups of two or three, talking about her like she couldn't even understand them. She stood in the centre of the courtyard, unsure of what to do.

"Come with me," said Lindir, beckoning her closer, "I am to deliver you to the Lady Arwen, who will help you bathe before supper." She couldn't really find it in herself to be offended she had just been told she smelled, so just followed along behind the elf.

"So," the girl started, "Why is everyone talking about me?" she asked, and Lindir seemed to sigh. "Sorry, sorry, it doesn't matter," she quickly backtracked, wary. The elf, who before had been resigned, now seemed confused.

"Everyone is wondering why a human girl knows the language of the elves, when the only humans who do are the Dúnedain," he answered, surprising her. "Why should you need to apologise for such a question?" he then asked, and she quickly retreated.

"Oh, don't worry," she tried to laugh it off, then, when he still looked curious, changed the subject. "It makes me wonder why they're all gossiping about me in … was it Sindarin? In Sindarin when they know I can understand them."

Lindir laughed, "That is a good question. I think it's because they are so used to outsiders not knowing what they are saying they forgot you do." She laughed as well.

They got to a door, and Lindir knocked on it, "Lady Arwen," he called, "Your father needs you to help with his guest." The girl awkwardly stood to the side, and when the door opened, became even more so.

The lady in the doorway was beautiful. Like the first star on the evening horizon, she drew your eyes. Her delicate face was framed by long, dark brown hair. Lindir had started speaking again.

"This is …" he said, then trailed off, "You never did say your name, did you?" he asked, and the girl froze in place. Lindir tried to carry on, "Your name?" he asked her, and was gifted with a sigh.

"I do…" she trailed off. Lindir coughed.

"Sorry, what was that?" he asked her. Arwen stood to the side, looking worried.

"I said, I don…" she trailed off once more. Lindir now was starting to look slightly annoyed, while Arwen was looking on in interest.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to speak up." he said, with a bite of impatience.

"I don't have one! I never got one, ok?" yelled the girl, then immediately retreated into herself, scolding herself for her outburst. She was also confused by it: she was a quiet person, and it didn't make any sense for her to yell. After a minute of silence, she looked up questioningly.

Lindir looked shocked, almost like he was in pain, while Arwen's face held an emotion she couldn't place, though her eyes were starting to fill with tears. "Don't worry," she quickly tried to reassure the two, "It doesn't really matter." She missed the look Arwen and Lindir exchanged, but couldn't miss when she suddenly an armful of crying elleth. Lindir had put his arms round her as well.

"Are you ok? Did you hurt yourself, what's wrong?" she asked Arwen, whose sobbing redoubled. She could also feel Lindir starting to shake behind her. She looked around for someone who could help her figure out what happened, and caught sight of Elrond at the end of the hallway. The two also exchanged a look, though this was one of confusion. The elf Lord walked up to the trio.

"Whatever is the matter, dear one?" he asked Arwen, who detached herself from the girl and sobbed into her father's chest. Meanwhile, Lindir was holding on so tightly it seemed he was never going to let go.

"She was never named, _father_," said Arwen, and when Elrond looked to Lindir, got a nod.

"Said it doesn't matter," he said, and Elrond's face became grave. When he was met by a confused stare from the girl in Lindir's arms, he explained.

"In our culture, indeed, in nearly every culture, a name is what defines you. What you are, how you will be remembered, it is all part of your name," he said, while Arwen nodded in his arms. "Since your parents never gave you one, I guess we'll have to," he finished. The girl's eyes were wide: she hadn't realised what a big thing a name was. She said as much.

"Everything should have a name," said Lindir above her head, "Even if the only thing that knows it is what it belongs to, it has a name." It was obvious to the girl that there would be no discussion.

"How about Laelynn," said Arwen from her father's arms, "Flower of hope, in the language of the Kings of Old," she continued. The other two agreed.

"Do you like this name," said Elrond, and the girl quickly agreed.

"Laelynn," she tested the name on her tongue, and the three nodded.

"Do you like it?" asked Arwen.

"I love it," answered the newly-christened Laelynn in awe. She had never had a name before, and this one was hers; no one else's, _hers_.

"Now let's get you to the baths, so you can join the rest of us at dinner." The two women walked off in the direction of the bath house, and Arwen seemed much more cheery. The elves left behind shared a look, and walked together in search of Gandalf; how much did he know about the mystery girl _exactly_.

It turned out he knew even less than they did.

* * *

><p><strong>So here's chapter 2. In my head cannon, I think names mean a lot to the races of Middle Earth; after all, what will they remember you by? Sorry if you think anyone is OOC, but I think the shock of someone's parents not caring enough to name their child would have shaken them. I hope this answers any questions you might have had to Laelynn's name. Laelynn is an actual name, which does mean flower of hope. I was looking for a name for her when I found it, and it only later occurred to me to find an elvish one. But Laelynn is a Canadian name, and I never see names from my country, so I'm keeping it.<strong>

**I'm dedicating this to everyone who has school starting this week, because going back to school sucks. Speaking of, I'm going to be heading back as well, so I'll try to keep updates coming quickly, but I'm sorry to say this is probably the only time updates will happen within a couple days. I also don't have a beta, so any if you see any errors, please tell me and I'll fix them as soon as I can.**


	3. I do NOT wear dresses

"No," said Lynn, looking at the dress laid out on the bed, "Absolutely not."

"Why ever not?" asked Arwen, holding up the dress. It was a silky white, with black edging on the sleeves and bodice. The skirt reached the floor, and the flared sleeves nearly did as well. It was a beautiful dress, but …

"It's just not practical," she said, and elaborated at the other woman's confused look, "I couldn't fight or even move quickly in that. It's a beautiful dress, just not for me."

"Well, what would you rather wear?" asked the elleth, holding the dress up to herself.

"You know the clothes I arrived in," she said, and received a nod from Arwen, "Do you have anything like that?"

"We can definitely get something like that," she said, "Do you think this would fit me?" she held up the dress.

"That would be wonderful," she replied, "I think it would fit you, try it on. Also, where did my weapons go? I'd just feel safer with one, if you don't mind," Lynn asked.

"All your belongings are at the foot of the bed," said Arwen, pulling the dress over her head, "This looks alright, doesn't it?"

"Arwen, you look lovely," she said, "I could just wear these right? They're clean." She held up her clothes, which actually weren't that bad.

"If you really wanted," she answered, twirling in front of the mirror, "Are you sure I look alright?"

"Oh that's good," she picked up her wand and subtly cast a charm on them. It sank into the clothes, cleaning and repairing them, and giving them a light scent of citrus. "Arwen, you look beautiful. If someone disagrees, they must be dumb and blind." The elleth's face relaxed slightly, "I'm going to wear these, is that ok?" she said, holding up her clothing.

"I'm never going to get you in a dress, am I?" she asked, but nodded. Laelynn sadly smiled.

"No," she said pulling on her boots, and slipping her tree pendant on, "You're not." She extended an arm, "Shall we?" Laughing, Arwen took her arm, and together the two went to the terrace where Elrond would be serving his guests.

When they arrived, the dwarves had already begun to eat. Laelynn detached herself from Arwen, and joined them, shooing the woman to her father's table when she looked like she would join her.

"Hello again," she said to the company, having taken the empty seat at the end of the table, "We didn't meet in the best of circumstances, I'm afraid, but I'd like to remedy that. I'm Laelynn," and how wonderful that felt on her tongue, "It's nice to meet you."

* * *

><p>Elrond examined the sword Thorin had taken from the Troll horde. "This is Orcrist, the goblin-cleaver. Made by my kin of the First Age, I hope it serves you well." Thorin took it with a nod, while Arwen looked on in interest. He then picked up the sword Gandalf had chosen, "And this is Glamdring the foe-hammer. It was the sword of the King of Gondolin, made to fight the goblins of the First Age."<p>

"What about Laelynn's sword, Ada?" asked Arwen, and as one the four turned to look at the girl. She was laughing at a joke Kíli had just told, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. At Elrond's nod, his daughter called, "Laelynn, my father will be able to tell you the origin of your sword," and the girl stood up to go over to them.

"I didn't know she had taken anything from the cave," said Gandalf.

"Well I was in there for at least an hour," the girl in question replied, "So forgive me if I was bored," she turned to Elrond, "You can tell me about my sword?" she asked, and got a nod. She unsheathed it, and Elrond's eyes widened.

"This is the sword of the High Lady of Gondolin," he spoke in awe, "It's name has been lost to time, but it's achievements are plentiful and well-known. May this sword serve you well," he said to a now blushing Laelynn.

"Thank you," she said, and went to to join the others for a loss of what else to do.

"Where did you come by these?" asked Elrond

"On the Great East Road," answered Gandalf.

"And what were you doing there?" asked the elf Lord. No one replied.

* * *

><p>The meal ended on a tense note. Once it had finished, the dwarves retired to the quarters provided for them, apart from Thorin, Balin and Bilbo, who joined Gandalf and Elrond. Arwen also left, said she had been invited to a friend's house. It was all she had talked about in the bath. Yeah, elves have giant communal bathtubs, apparently. They were quite nice.<p>

Elves had begun to start clearing up the table. "Let me help with that," she said, picking up an empty platter. She turned, and was greeted by a shocked pair of hazelnut eyes.

"Oh no, it wouldn't be proper for the guest to help us with the cleaning," the ellon said, gently tugging the platter from her hands. His blond hair was flashing in the last rays of the setting sun.

"Well I can't sit here doing nothing as you work in front of me," she said, grabbing the platter right back. "It can even just be passing on a message, but let me help somehow." The elf looked like he wanted to protest, but seeing the determination in her expressive green eyes, sighed.

"Alright," he said, and ignored her muted cry of satisfaction, "Can you go to the kitchens and tell Alassiel we will be serving an over abundance of meat for the duration of your company's stay?" He tugged the platter from her hands again, and quickly passed to another elf before she noticed it's disappearance

She snapped a sloppy salute, "Of course I can. And they're actually not my company: they found me in a Troll horde, and then we were chased here by an Orc pack, so I don't actually know them." The poor ellon looked overwhelmed by her impromptu speech, "So yeah, I can tell the kitchens to make a lot of meat. Oh yeah, what's your name?" she asked.

"... Thalion," he said after a pause.

"Thank you, Thalion, for giving me something to do," she said, rushing down the corridor. The elf was left staring after her in bewilderment. After a moment she came back into view. "Uhh, which way's the kitchen?" she called, and he indulgently smiled before answering.

"Down the stairs as far as you can go, then at the end of the hall," he called, and she was off again. He shared a look with Daeron, before both returned to their duties: it had been a while since there had been children in Rivendell, apart from Estel, and they were going to savour it while it lasted (even though she was undoubtedly older than the Dúnedain child). For there was no doubt Mithrandir was going to loop her into his crazy quest with the dwarves. It was what he did, after all.

Rushing down the stairs, Laelynn smiled at the elves she passed, calling "Hello's" and "'Scuse me"s to them as she passed. They would look back in fond exasperation at the sight of a child racing through the halls, then continue with their tasks. Bursting through the kitchen doors, all activity seemed to stop as the ellons and elleths took in the sight of a girl bent double trying to catch her breath.

"Which … one of you … is Alassiel?" she asked in short gasps, still fighting for air.

"I am," said a elleth who was plating a large raspberry-lemon tart. She finished, then went over to talk to her. Laelynn had caught her breath by that point.

"Thalion told me to tell you that you'll be serving an over abundance of meat for the duration of the dwarves stay," she said quickly, and the kitchen erupted in a flurry of movement. Elves rushed past each other, checking pantries and starting to prepare meat for breakfast. Laelynn stood in the middle of the organised chaos, watching with wide eyes; she was certain someone was going to trip over something and break their neck.

"Did he say anything else," an ellon asked her. He too seemed shocked by the choreography in front of him.

"No sorry," she said, "If I see him do you want me to tell him something?" The elf seemed to be building up to something, but with a sigh he deflated.

"No, never mind," he said. They stood for a moment before he remembered himself, "Do you need anything?" he asked her. Her cheeks flushed bright red.

"Um, could you tell mewhereI'mstaying," she said in a rush. The elf's dark green eyes twinkled with suppressed mirth.

* * *

><p>"Of course. If you would follow me," he said smoothly, voice not betraying the amusement he felt.<p>

"Thanks again Sadron," said Laelynn. She had learned the elf's name as he lead her through the halls, pointing out interesting features and telling her their history. She decided bit to tell him it was really quite easy to see if you looked for it.

"It was my pleasure," he said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but kept his silence and turned to leave. She stared at his retreating back in confusion.

"Huh," she said, then opened the door to the suite her room was in. Laelynn expected she could just go to her bed and flop, but it seemed it wasn't to be just yet.

In the central section of the rooms was the company of dwarves, who were rowdily singing and dancing. Sausages and other meats were being cooked above a fire, which when she looked closer, was made out of broken furniture from their rooms. Off to the side was Lindir, with a wholly uncomfortable expression.

She sidled up to him. "What have I missed?" She asked, and was rewards by a long-suffering sigh.

"_It's these dwarves_," he said, and his voice had gained that musi— that Sindarin sound. "_They've taken the furniture and _burned _it. If they wanted firewood they just could have asked. And the furniture is —_" whatever the furniture was would remain unknown, because at that moment, the table Bombur had been sitting on collapsed under his weight.

Lindir's face became ashen as the dwarves let out a cry of laughter, and Laelynn patted his arm in sympathy. "Ay, it's Laelynn!" At least she did until she was pulled into the group by Fíli. "Where've you been?" He asked.

"Umm," she said, trying to think of how to answer. By now, she had been dragged to the centre of the group.

"Go on, tell us," cried Kíli, face alight with anticipation.

"I was helping," she finally said. They all looked like they wanted her to elaborate, but were (thankfully) distracted by the reappearance of Thorin, Balin, and Bilbo. The group of dwarves waited for him to speak.

"We will stay here for eight days," he said. The dwarves were both happy (to be off the road, she thought) and disappointed.

"I don't like green food," said Ori morosely, and the rest of the dwarves were nodding. She smiled.

"Good thing the kitchens are making meat dishes," Laelynn sang quietly. She was heard by half the dwarves; the others had broken into a loud raucous song.

"What do you mean, Miss Laelynn?" asked Glóin, and she gave a start at being heard.

"Oh, um," she stuttered, aware of the eyes on her, "You know how I said I was helping earlier," she started, and received nods from the group of dwarves, "Well, I had to get a message to the kitchens, which was to make a lot of meat for your stay." The dwarves let out a cry of joy, and she slipped past, intending to go to her room.

"Goodnight," she murmured to Lindir as she passed, and shut the door abruptly behind her. She only was able to strip off her clothing and pull on the nightgown at the foot of the bed before sleep claimed her.

* * *

><p><strong>So, here's the next chapter. I'm still finding it hard to believe people are actually reading my story, but it's happening. School's started up again, so my previous updating schedule (which doesn't exist) is thrown outta <strong>**whack. I think (please don't hold me to this) I may be able to update every weekend, _maybe_. Don't depend on it; term's just started, so my homework load is light, but that could change.**

**I have a tumblr — legolasvoldecauststarringloki — I know it's long, but it's mine. I'm going to post short experts from future chapters there, and if you ask, I'll post a couple oneshots about Laelynn's life at Hogwarts before this story.**

**What are you waiting for? Review!**


	4. LEGILIMENS! (the Galadriel version)

Laelynn woke the next morning in a bed far more comfortable than her own. Silken sheets pooled around her waist as she sat up, confusing her even more. "Wha…" she started, before remembering. She slumped in the bed: she would have to find a way to get back to Hogwarts. It had been nice, being gone, but if she was away for too long… well, she wouldn't be missed, but she really should get back.

She got out of the bed, the light-blue nightgown she had been given swirling round her ankles. The sun was just rising, and she took a moment to appreciate it. Then she pulled the covers down, to remake the bed, when she saw it: a patch of red.

"Dammit!" she swore softly, aware that not many people were going to be awake, "Fuck fuck fucking fuck you have to be kidding me." Of course she would repay her hosts by bleeding onto their sheets. It had definitely gotten onto her nightgown as well. She stripped the bed, leaving the clean linens at the foot of the it she dragged the stained sheets into the attached bathroom.

She paused a moment, blown away by the sheer opulence of the room (why were there three _sinks_? Who needs _three_ sinks?), but quickly shook herself free of her stupor and started for the sink in the middle. The water ran icy cold, and she scrubbed at the stain on the sheet, trying to get most of the blood out. As she scratched at the sheet, trying in vain to get the worst of it out, Laelynn tried to think of a way she could ask for some pads.

Giving up her cleaning attempt as a bad job, she went back to the bedroom, throwing the stained sheet into a corner. Pulling off the silken nightgown, she saw her suspicions were wrong; there was no large patch of blood on the pale blue silk like she feared.

There was a knock on the door, and she started at the noise. "Laelynn?" it was Arwen, "Can I come in?" she asked.

"Yeah, just a sec," she called, pulling back on the nightgown and going to the door to open it. She saw the daughter of Elrond standing to the side of the door, a pile of clothes in her arms, and stepped out of the way to make room for the elf. She stepped in and frowned at the pile of wet sheets.

"What happened?" she asked, and the other's face flushed.

"It's my time of the month," she said hesitantly, "And I bled on the sheets. I'm _really_ sorry." The ground between her feet was very interesting; the tiles had a nature pattern. She was admiring the intricate petals of a yellow flower when Arwen tapped her shoulder.

"Do you have any supplies?" she asked, and received a shake of the head. "No? Well, I can give you some cloths for the blood flow," she continued, acknowledging the gratitude shining in Laelynn's eyes with a nod of her head. "I'll be right back, and I'll bring you the recipe and some packs of Travelling Tea."

When Arwen shut the door behind her, she looked around the room for where she had dumped her clothes the night before (they were under a chair at the foot of the bed).

"I can't thank you enough," she said when Arwen returned with the promised cloths and a sheet of thin parchment. On it were the instructions for a herbal tea, and most if the ingredients were easy to find plant. Only the raspberry leaf might be difficult in the winter.

"It stops your bleeding, and also prevents pregnancy," Arwen said, as she passed her some tea bags, "Once this month's is done, you drink a cup every morning at breakfast, and each bag can be reused three times before it loses efficiency. Do it for six months, then you have to wait two weeks before beginning again. You'll have a bleeding then, and a heavy one at that, but it's dangerous if you don't stop."

"This is really useful, thank you," Laelynn replied, placing the tea bags on the dresser by the door, "But why is it called 'travel tea'?"

"Think nothing of it," was the reply. "It's called Travel_ling_ Tea," the elleth stressed the word she had gotten wrong, "Because it's mostly used when you have to travel. All sorts of horrible creatures can find you if you're bleeding." That made sense.

Arwen started to talk again, "I have some clothes similar to the ones you wore yesterday for you," she said, pointing to the pile of clothes she had brought with her earlier. "Go wash up and get changed, I'll be here when you're done," she said, and Laelynn chose an outfit at random.

"Thanks again, she said, disappearing into the bathroom, "Do you think after this we could see your father?" she asked after a bit, and received a "Yes, of course" in return.

* * *

><p>Fully dressed, she and Arwen exited her room as she strapped a dagger to her thigh. When they reached the open area, the girls looked at the results of the night before. The fire had burned out, leaving a heap of charred wood in the centre of the room, and the dwarves… The dwarves had dragged all their mattresses out of their rooms, and were sleeping on them in a large pile.<p>

Laelynn thought they looked more peaceful asleep. Dori and Nori were wrapped protectively around their brother, while Fíli and Kíli had latched onto Thorin. The dwarf had both arms wrapped around the two, making a cute picture.

The two stood there until Laelynn remembered they had been heading to see Arwen's father. Together the left through the double doors, nodding to the elves who were carrying trays of food in the opposite direction. Laelynn grabbed a couple buns of one of the trays, grinning at the elf carrying it. Her grin got even wider when she saw it was Thalion, who only shook his head ruefully at her in return. She handed half of the buns to Arwen, her grin threatening to split her face when the elleth took them with a small laugh.

It only took a few minutes to arrive at Lord Elrond's quarters with Arwen leading. More than a few times she had had to pull the other girl away from a wrong turn, smiling at the her petulant expression. Together they entered the rooms, to find them empty. However, voices filtered in through the open door to the balcony, and turning the corner they found Gandalf in discussion with Elrond, while a blond elf with her back to them stared out across the valley.

Laelynn coughed to get their attention, and the three turned as one to face the two in the doorway. Her attention was caught by the blond elf; she was beautiful, her deep blue eyes like the pools of crystal water she had seen in the Forest. She noticed the three were looking at her expectantly, and flushed a brilliant red.

"Was there something you needed?" asked Elrond, and she stuttered for a moment before replying.

"Um, y–yes, there was," she started, before finding her voice. "I can't thank you enough for your hospitality, I really am incredibly grateful, but I need to get back to Hogwarts soon." Arwen's face fell, while the others had understanding, but confused looks on their faces.

"I understand," said Elrond, "but I'm afraid I don't know where this 'Hogwarts' is." Now Laelynn was the one with a confused look.

"How can you not know," she asked, "You must have at least heard of it," she continued, but was only greeted with a shake of the head. They had moved from the balcony to Elrond's study, and on the wall were a bunch of… "Can you get me a map?" she asked, "I'll be able to show you where it is, or at least the general area."

Arwen grabbed a scroll from a high-up shelf, "Here," she said, unravelling it and laying it flat upon Elrond's desk. Laelynn looked at it in shock.

"What's this supposed to be?" she asked, dumbfounded. Maybe it was a joke. It _had _to be a joke.

"A map of Arda," replied Elrond, "Is it not to your liking?" She couldn't breathe. She _couldn't. Breathe_. It took Gandalf thumping her back to get her to inhale, and even then, it was haggard and rattling.

"W–w–where's London?" she asked, "Where's Scotland? Where is this supposed to be?" Her voice was getting higher and louder, until she was literally squeaking at the last word.

"As Lord Elrond said," said the blond one, "It is a map of Arda, where you are now." Her voice had a note Laelynn couldn't place. "Are you quite all right child?" she asked, and her voice still held that note of concern. Concern. How odd.

"But where's — where's—" she stuttered and stumbled on the words. _Where's home_ she wanted to say, but that wouldn't be true. She had no home.

"I know not of any 'Lindon' or 'Scotlond'," said Gandalf, accidentally mispronouncing their names, "If they are actual places, then they certainly aren't on this world." Gandalf's blasé words hung in the air, dragging everyone's attention, even Gandalf's. _It's because they must be true_, thought Laelynn, _what else could be the explanation_?

"I believe," she swallowed the lump that had settled in her throat, and started again, "I believe Gandalf is right; I have, somehow, travelled between worlds." Like his, her words hung heavily in the air. She knew them to be true, even though part of her was screaming _there __**must **__be another explanation, __**anything **__would make more sense than this._

"But how is that possible?" asked Arwen, who had recovered first. Elrond and the blond woman were exchanging doubtful glances, while Gandalf looked stunned that his casual words might have a ring of truth to them. Laelynn, meanwhile, felt like she was dreaming, disconnected from her surroundings.

"I do not know, my dear," Gandalf replied to Arwen's question, "I do not know."

"Preposterous, Gandalf," said Elrond, "It simply isn't possible…" As the group descended into argument over whether or not the girl had really come from another world, Laelynn stood stock still, not even noticing when Gandalf waved his hand so close to her it nearly hit her face. Only when Elrond was about to speak again did she finally slam back into reality.

"Can I get back?" she asked in a strangled voice, and the room had gone silent when she spoke, "Please," she continued, "Please, is there any way for me to get back?" Her voice broke on the last word, and she did as well, crumpling into herself. She fell to the floor, and like her, tears began falling down her face.

"_Please_," she kept repeating, mumbling through the taste of salt water on her lips. As Arwen gathered her into her arms, pressing the young one close, the others began to discuss different options, any earlier arguments forgotten. While the elleth clutched the sobbing girl, she was forcefully reminded of the other's youth. The girl couldn't be more than 15, and that was much too young, she thought. Much too young.

"I believe the Arkenstone was used by the dwarves as a way to get to mines unreachable from the surface," said Gandalf, "Maybe it could be used to get her back to her home."

"Yes, but there is the small matter that it's currently in the claws of a _dragon_," replied Elrond, sarcasm rife in his tone. To the girl on the floor, however, their words were gibberish for all she could tell.

"_Dry your tears_," came a voice in Laelynn's head, and she immediately stiffened, drawing her defences around her mind.

"_Who are you_?" she asked it, looking around the room.

"_I am Galadriel, Lady of the Golden Wood_," replied the voice, and the blond elf was nodding at her. _So that's her name…_

"_Yes_," she said, a hint of a laugh in her tone, and Laelynn drew her shields even tighter. "_Unfortunately, while admirable, your shields are useless against me_," she spoke again.

"_Can I ask what you are doing in my head_?" she hesitantly questioned the blond elleth, who smiled at her.

"_You can ask_," she responded with a smile, "_But you may not receive an answer. However, I will tell you; I only want to see if this Hogwarts is known by a different name here, to determine whether you truly have travelled worlds_."

Laelynn, seeing nothing wrong with the request, thought of the castle. She thought about how it looked in the day; sun shining onto neatly trimmed lawns, glistening on the surface of the lake while the Giant Squid idly waved his tentacles across the water. Or at night, when the stars were blocked by the great building — unless you sat on the roof, where there was an unimpeded view of the night sky, brilliant and magnificent.

She thought about the Quidditch games; flyers racing around on broomsticks while Lee Jordan commentated. Students cheering and hollering for their favourite team, the noise loud enough that she could hear it from the window of the room she was training in that day, wishing she could be outside like the others—

Quickly she thought of the Great Hall; food set out on golden platters: roasts and other meats, dripping in their sauces, or all the different desserts, a multitude of colours. Above, the enchanted ceiling reflecting the weather, from bright blue skies and the shining sun, to overcast clouds, grey and murky, rolling like a boiling pot, to snow in the winter, lazily falling but never reaching them at their tables.

Thinking of snow had her thinking of winter at Hogwarts; 12 Christmas trees in a row at the back of the Great Hall, groaning under the weight of hundreds of magical ornaments. And the Menorah the Jewish students who stayed over always set up (always set up _by themselves_, whispered a nasty voice in her head. Laelynn politely told it to fuck off) in an abandoned classroom, it's eight candles flickering in the draft when the door was opened, but never went out. The flames were always different colours, jewel tones lighting the walls and the faces of the students around it. She had always been welcomed to their celebrations, unlike at the Christmas ones, where she had always been turned away, shunned by—

No. She thought even faster of lessons, pointedly not focusing on Galadriel's reactions. Transfiguration with McGonagall, changing hairpins into hats and teacups into turtles. Harsh and fair was always used to describe the professor, though she had yet to see it, as she was and had always been prejudiced against the Slytherins, and Laelynn herself—

Charms (she swiftly changed track) with Professor Flitwick, one of the few teachers who actually treated her decently. Learning how to make wine from water and feathers float, his lessons were always fun, though she wished they had been taught more on charming objects, self-study wasn't always easy, and she needed to know how to protect her belongings from—

Potions, with surly Professor Snape, who would look at her perfect Calming Draught, and give her a sniff and say "passable" (which was high praise for any non-Slytherin to hear), or teach them how to make potions that could be used against a persons worst enemy, which meant they were usually slipped into her food and drink to embarrass her—

Herbology, Arithmancy, History of Magic (which she actually found interesting when she found books not written biased to wizards), Ancient Runes — faster and faster her thoughts flew, and with them some of her experiences outside of lessons—

She tried not to think of the bad, instead focusing on the (indubitably smaller) good; Hagrid inviting her over for tea, and actually _listening _to her when she spoke (which happened once in a blue moon with everyone else, so she savoured it). When she would cry about being bullied and teased (before she realised it upset him, and stopped as she didn't want her friend to be sad because of her), he was there, wiping away her tears with his enormous handkerchief. "Don' fret," he would say, "They just can' see wha' I can: a beau'iful girl who's the smar'est in her generation." And he would poke her stomach, to get her to giggle, and she would smile again.

Or Luna; little Luna Lovegood,who was always there to talk, or just let her sit in silence while she rambled on about Nargles and Wrackspurts — not caring that no one but Laelynn believed her, even when they were easy to spot for anyone who would try. The poor girl was bullied nearly as bad as she was, but both had perfected the act of not caring when they did, so much so it felt like they would just fall apart some days (but couldn't, never could, not where everyone could see, and taunt and laugh and jeer and _hurt_).

Anthony, Neville, Daphne, Percy, those first few years before he had to leave (though they still sent each other letters), she tried to only think of the good things, like the House Elves in the kitchen, who let her bake when she was sad and showed her the Come and Go Room. But her list of good things was awfully short, and with nothing she could think she hadn't thunk before, her thoughts strayed to the bad;

"Hey Freak, aren't you going home for Christmas?" yelled a black-haired boy from the doorway of the castle, blocking her way inside. Green eyes filled with loathing and mirth in equal measure shone from behind a pair of circular glasses, "Of _course _you're not, you don't have one! No one wants a _freak _like you around!" he sneered, and walked away. The girl stood there, stunned, before running back the way she came, to a stone hut at the edge of a forest, tears falling in her wake.

* * *

><p>"You bitch, you beat my score on the Charms test!" was shouted by a girl with unruly brown hair and large front teeth, "<em>I'm<em> the smartest witch of our generation," a demonic grin flashed across her features, "And I know _just _how to show you!" She crushed a sheet of paper in her fist, the 'O' written in bright red ink standing out on the cream-coloured paper stained by lines of black text. Outside the wind howled, rattling the windows, as the brown-haired girl lit the balled-up paper on fire.

* * *

><p>In a crowded courtyard, a jet of light hit her in the back, and Laelynn fell to the stones by a dried up fountain. Boils sprouting all over her body, and immediately started to burst in the late June sun. An old man in flowing red robes walked past, and she cried out "Professor Dumbledore, please!" But he just kept walking, studiously not looking at the girl on the floor. The laughter of the other students was loud, their ties shining in the sun; silver and green, blue and bronze, yellow and black, red and gold, every House of Hogwarts was present at her humiliation, but the most abundant were those who wore fire round their neck. The boy with the messy black hair was being congratulated as he basked in the applause.<p>

* * *

><p>"Freak, Freak, Freak!" was chanted by a trio of children; one boy with shocking red hair, one was the girl with frizzy brown hair, and the other was the bespectacled boy. Their eyes gleamed as they menacingly advanced on the girl in the corner.<p>

"That's not my name," was whispered by the girl, tongue darting out to lick cracked lips. She raised her arms to shield her head as they got closer and closer.

"Well what is it then?" jeered the red-haired boy, his friends mimicking him. Laelynn was silent, and the boy let out a laugh, harsh and grating. "You can't say," he said gleefully, eyes bright and terrifying, "Because you don't have one!" he finished, to uproarious laughter. At the end of the corridor a figure in tartan robes and a green pointed hat passed, and looked upon the three figures with their wands raised. Her eyes caught those of the girl, who mouthed 'help', pleading for her to help. But she stood there, only interfering when the three had already cast their spells.

"What are you doing?" she asked, though it was obvious she knew, and didn't care. "It's a rule: no casting spells _in the corridors_," she continued, emphasising the last three words, and anyone who heard her speak could tell she was giving them a message.

"Five points from Gryffindor," she said to the girl on the floor, "You're missing your tie." The three beamed at her, and the brunette on the held up the tie she had summoned from her as soon as the Professor had yelled for them to stop. She motioned for them to follow her, and the four left the corridor, leaving the girl behind in a heap of pain. Her eyes shone with unshed tears (which would never fall), and a whimper escaped her unintentionally.

She was not found for four hours and twenty-three minutes.

(Even then it was on accident.)

* * *

><p>On and on the memories came, until with a shuddering gasp, Laelynn's eyes fluttered shut and she fell limp against Arwen. As she and her father carried her out of the room (and Gandalf held open the door), Galadriel stood in the middle of the study, shocked and horrified.<p>

Gandalf was still in the doorway, waiting for her. "Did you find anything?" he asked. "Is she really not of this world?" He re-entered the room, letting the door swing shut behind him.

Galadriel shut her eyes. "No, she is not," she said, while tears started to fall from beneath closed lids, "But I wonder; would keeping her here be so bad, when hardly any good waits for her upon return?"

* * *

><p><strong>*covers face with hands* I'm so horrible! I'd love to say Laelynn had a wonderful childhood, but that'd be a lie. I'd also love to say bullying is the worst thing to happen to her, but that would also be a lie. <strong>**It's probably a bit late, but this is _not_ a 'wrong child-who-lived' story. It is one where the Potters and the Golden Trio and Dumbledore and McGonagall are dicks, though. Just so you know.**

**I think I'm gonna stick with the 'update every weekend' system. It gives me time to write, and I'm finding myself physically incapable of writing any less than 2,000+ words. I'm also a review whore, as they're my main motivation for writing, so if even you just say "update" it boosts my confidence loads.**

**Until next weekend, my friends!**


	5. A trip down Memory Lane

When Laelynn awoke, it was to the feel of silk soft sheets beneath her. As she wondered how she ended up in the new room, she focused on how the setting sun made patterns on the wall across from her. _I wonder_, she thought, and took a sniff. Hospital smell. Apparently even magical elven healing rooms weren't immune to it. She wondered why she was in the elven hospital room, and sat up to get a better look at her surroundings.

Her head started to spin, and an ellon with nut brown hair entered the room. Behind him trailed Galadriel, worry creasing the planes of her face. Her unasked question died on her lips as the memories from Elrond's study returned to her, and she fell back onto the bed.

"You shouldn't be getting up," cried the brunette, hurrying to her bedside, "Lie down. Can you tell me what you're feeling?" he asked, and it took Laelynn a moment to form her reply.

"Slow," she said, "And my head feels like there's someone inside, hammering on my skull." The elf tsked.

"I was afraid of that," he said, lowering his voice (for which she was _very_ grateful), "You'll need to stay in bed for the rest of today."

Her face fell, "I'm actually feeling a lot better," she said, moving to get up, "I certainly don't need any bed rest," she tried to get up, but was hit by a dizzy spell. When it had finished, the elf was looking at her with a critical eye.

"Really?" he asked sceptically, "I highly doubt that. Look," he sighed, when Laelynn gave a dejected huff, and slumped back onto the bed, "If you don't move from that bed _at all_, you can leave in two days, _if _it won't agitate your injuries."

She supposed it was the best she would get. "What are my injuries?" she questioned. Galadriel was still standing in the doorway.

"Only a slight concussion," said the elf puttering around her bed, "You should be fine come in a couple of days. I'll just tell the kitchens you're awake," he said, "They can make a meal for you that you'll be able to keep down." He exited the room, and the tension increased tenfold as Galadriel left the entrance of the room to talk to Laelynn.

"I must apologise," she immediately said, once the other elf had left, "It was not my intention to cause you such distress."

"Umm, ok?" replied the girl, unsure of how to respond. "Nothing bad happened to you, did it," she asked after a minute or two of silence. Galadriel got a rueful smile.

"Even now, when you yourself are in a bed in the healing chamber, you're asking about my health," she said sadly, "I am fine, little one."

"I'm not short," muttered the girl in the bed, and received a laugh in return, "I'm _not_." The doors to the wing opened a second time.

"Laelynn!" Arwen was in the doorway, following the elf who was bringing in the food. The ellon who had arrived with Galadriel trailed behind the two of them. "Are you alright?" asked the elleth, running to the bed. She slowed her pace to a walk when she saw who was sitting by it's side.

The girl in the bed grinned, "I'm fine, Arwen," she said, turning her attention the the other new arrival.

"I heard you were injured," said Thalion, hazelnut eyes showing badly concealed worry. "Will you be alright?"

Laelynn gave him a small smile, "I'm fine, don't worry. Besides, you brought food, and getting knocked out makes me hungry." The group around the bed laughed, and Galadriel stood.

"I am afraid I must take my leave," she said to the group, and exited the room, goodbye's being called out after her. Lindir dipped his head to Galadriel respectfully as she passed, and hurried to the bed.

"Hi Lindir," Laelynn joyfully called to him, "Come join us!"

"I'm actually supposed to be somewhere else," he answered with a regretful shake of his head, "I just came to see if you were alright."

"Aww, you do care," she grinned at him, "At least take a cake with you: you need to eat more, you're far too thin." Laelynn's face, which before had been rosy-cheeked as her green eyes sparkled with mirth, became ashen grey, and her eyes turned haunted.

"Are you alright?" asked Thalion, who had already taken a few of the confections from the tray he'd brought and wrapped them in a napkin for Lindir.

Laelynn raised a hand to her mouth in horror, "I sound like Molly Weasley," she breathed gustily, "I sound like _Molly Weasley_." The others didn't know who this 'Molly Weasley' was, but immediately took it upon themselves to distract her.

Soon enough, she was laughing at how Lindir had reacted to the fact Thalion had already given him all the cakes he liked. Her eye caught Arwen's, and the two grinned at each other. _I wonder who's going to get their head out of their arse first_, she thought, as Lindir finally took the package.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, once everyone had left, Laelynn sat in the bed, wide awake. She had slept most of the day, and consequently wasn't tired. She daren't get out of the bed though; being confined to it for even one day was far too long.<p>

She thought of what she had learned in Elrond's study, and wondered what she was going to do. _Well_, she thought sarcastically, _If I ever get back to my world, it would look great on a résumé_. Travelled to another world when she was 15, she could see it now.

Except… except, she wouldn't have a résumé, would she? Laelynn cast her thoughts to the day she had eavesdropped (technically she wasn't eavesdropping. It's not her fault they were talking about her across the room full of people, in quiet tones… ok fine, she had eavesdropped) on James Potter and Dumbledore. They had been talking about her, though, so it was totally justified.

* * *

><p>"Professor Dumbledore!" said James Potter in a happy voice, "Fancy seeing you here."<p>

"Well my dear boy, you did invite me," replied the man, his really white beard glowing in the light from the candles. _Mister James looks like he knows how silly his words were_, thought the girl sitting in the corner, with a book in her hand. All the other kids were playing with the boy-who-lived, who was basking (it was a word she had found a week ago, and thought it was exactly what he was doing) in the attention. She had tried to play as well, but had been pushed away by a pair of boys.

"He doesn't want to play with you," said one of the five-year-olds.

"No one does!" said his redheaded companion, and the two had laughed. She had gone to the corner, pulling on the hem of the blue dress (she thought it was _very _pretty) she had been given for the party. It was the fourth ami… annen… year after the defeat of Vold-e-mort (and why did everyone call him You-Know-Who. She didn't know who, and it had taken her three months reading nearly every book in the Potter Library to find out). When Mister Percy saw her, he had given her a book and a small smile, saying how he "didn't like these things either". It looked like a cool book, but she would rather listen to Mister James and Mister Dumbdoor talk.

I actually wanted to talk to you about something," said Mister James, and the two adults went over to a corner far away from hers. Mister Dumbdoor waved his knobbly (knobbly, knobbly, knobbly) wand and cast a Silencing Charm. She pouted (she learned that word a month ago, from Mister Remus when Harry wanted more ice-cream, and kept asking when Mister Remus told him no). She really wanted to hear this! The girl thought about hearing what they were saying really really hard. There was a tingly feeling in her tummy, and suddenly she could hear them like they were standing next to her! Mister James was speaking.

"—how can _she_," and she knew he was talking about her, because his voice had gone all funny like it usually did, "Defeat the Dark Lord?" She had never defeated a Dark Lord before! Maybe if she did it, people would like her.

Mister James kept talking, "_She_ just goes out to the woods all the time, to 'talk'." The girl smiled; Pansy was going to have babies soon, and the porcupine had said she wanted her to bless them. She had never blessed anything before, and was trying to find what you say when you bless babies (after looking for a long time and not finding anything, she had decided to tell each baby porcupine she loved them and wanted them to be happy. She thought it would work fine).

"We both know that isn't possible," said Mister Dumbdoor, and she frowned. It totally was! "There are no intelligent creatures on the grounds of Potter Manor." That was a lie! Mister Dumbdoor was being dumb: there were loads of smart creatures in the Forest, and when she crossed the stream with the tingly water, there were centaurs! She decided not to tell them Mister Dumbdoor thought they were stupid; they would be the unhappy where their faces turned red and they sometimes yelled bad words. They had told her not to repeat the bad words, though.

"Exactly!" said Mister James, "Or _she _just sits in the Library with a book in front of her." The girl thought about the Potter Library; how it took up three floor, and you had to use ladders to get to some of the book, and the cool secret room with really old books and comfy chairs. It was really dusty in there. "Even though nearly all the time she isn't even able to read them!" Mister James continued, and she felt red-face unhappy, except her face didn't turn red, and she didn't say the bad words; she could read all the books she looked at, and if she didn't understand a word, Dipsy told her what the dictionary said.

"What do you mean by that, my dear boy?" asked Mister Dumbdoor. _Yeah, what do you mean by that_? she thought, crossing her arms.

"You said _she _would be the same as Harry in every way when we started," said Mister James, and the girl could see Mister Dumbdoor nodding. What had they started? "Well, Harry is just starting to learn how to read," he said. Was he? She stayed away from Harry, because Misses Lily told her to, so didn't know he was starting to learn how to read. Maybe they could read together, and be Reading-Buddies!

Mister Dumbdoor made the 'ah' noise, but not the 'I'm scared' one, the 'I get it' one. "I see," he said. She didn't, "You're right, she's only just going to start knowing how to read as well." Mister Dumbdoor lied a lot! She knew how to read really well, and told stories she had memorised (she learned that word a year ago, and found she was really good at remembering things. She hardly ever forgot anything she didn't want to) to her forest-friends. The centaurs really liked when she told them stories, and sometimes they even told her centaur-stories. She promised them she would never forget the stories, and then they would ruffle her hair and say "I know little one". That would always make her stomp her foot and say "I'm _not _short!" Because she _wasn't _short! The centaurs would only laugh, and tell her everyone was short to them.

"Hello, Lily-flower," said Mister James, and the girl saw Misses Lily had joined them. Mister James kissed her cheek, "I was just about to ask Professor Dumbledore what we should do with _her_." The three adults started to look for her, and she quickly looked away. She didn't want to look like she was staring at them. She turned to see if they had stopped looking, and found all of them looking at her. She waved, and they turned away. The girl frowned; they could have waved back!

"What about her?" asked Misses Lily. Mister James spoke again.

"Professor Dumbledore says we should start training her to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." That was another weird name for Vold-e-mort. You just said he shouldn't be named, but you just called him a name! Adults have no sense at all.

"I don't think that would work at all," said Misses Lily, "She's mentally retarded Professor, hasn't got a drop of sense." The girl in the corner felt like crying; that was a really _mean _word to call someone. If someone had a mental disability, you didn't say mean things about them, it was _rude_ and _mean _and _not nice_! Mentally disabled or ill people had feelings too, and those words could really hurt! Flopsy (Dipsy's second cousin on her mother's side) had ADHD, and all the house-elves would keep him from being seen by Mister James and Misses Lily. Not because he was shameful, but because they didn't want him to be hurt by their cruel words.

"Would you rather have Harry do it?" asked Mister Dumbdoor, and Mister James and Misses Lily started saying no a lot. "She may be retarded," said Mister Dumbdoor (and he was really dumb if he thought saying mean words was ok), "But she only needs to kill Voldemort, and when she dies in the conflict, well, it won't be a loss." She nearly sat on the floor, except it would get her new dress dirty, and her new dress was the nicest thing she owned. _Mister James and Misses Lily would care_, she told herself, but that was proven wrong as the two nodded.

"And when she dies, her magical power would go to Harry," said Misses Lily slowly. Mister James started nodding.

"And when that happens, the magical residue would look like it was left by Harry, and he would be even more of a hero!" said Mister James excitedly. The girl felt like sobbing. _Dipsy and the other house-elves would care_, she thought stubbornly, _and all my forest-friends, like the centaurs, and Pansy_.

"So it's settled," said Mister Dumbdoor, "Once she and Harry turn six, we will begin to train her. Harry, of course, will have to receive something similar." Maybe they could be training-buddies. Maybe—

"You will not teach my son about the dark things of the world!" said Misses Lily strongly.

"Of course not, Lily-flower," said Mister James, "Professor Dumbledore, this has been very informative, thank you."

"It has been a pleasure, James, Lily, but I'm afraid I must be getting back." Mister Dumbdoor waved his wand again, and the tingly feeling in her tummy disappeared, but she was still able to hear them.

As he passed her, the old man looked at the book she was holding, "And what are you reading?" he asked in a fake-happy voice. Since he used a fake-happy voice, and was saying mean things about people like Flopsy, she decided to pretend to be as dumb as him.

"Oh, I'm not reading it," she said, and she wasn't lying, not really. She hadn't read it, just held it, "It's Mister Percy's book." With really really good timing, Mister Percy showed up.

"Can I have my book back please?" he asked her nicely, "I'm sorry to take it from you, but I'm getting dreadfully bored."

"Not a problem Mister Percy," she said, and handed him the book. He took it with a puzzle-face.

"No need to call me mister," he said, then turned to Mister Dumbdoor, "Hello Professor." Mis— _Percy _wandered away, already flipping through his book to find his page. The girl quietly slipped away, to the table with the food on it. She really wanted to try the red wobbly stuff.

* * *

><p>Laelynn emerged from the memory with a sigh. The 'red wobbly stuff', as she had then called it, had been launched at her by the Weasley twins (she wasn't sure if it was accidental or not), and she had fled to her room in tears. Although, the next day Dipsy had shown up and taught her how to clean her clothes, so it wasn't so bad.<p>

Like Dumbledore had said, as soon as she and Harry turned six, she was in training nearly everyday. It had continued until Hogwarts, and even then, every day something (for example, Quidditch matches) happened, she would be inside training. She had only gotten to go to Hogsmead because it would look strange if Harry Potter's 'twin sister' didn't go to the wizarding village with everyone else.

The point was, she was going to die fighting Voldemort. It was her job, to kill him, and once she had done it she would die. She knew there was nothing she could do; in a book in the Potter Library, it spoke of how beings like her had one purpose, and when that purpose was fulfilled, they ceased to be.

A few weeks ago — hell, a few _days _ago — she wouldn't have minded, perfectly content to die like they wanted. After all, there wasn't any other option; either she died, or everyone else did. But a few days ago, she was perfectly content to be nameless, too.

"I will no longer be a puppet," she spoke to the empty room, her whisper as loud as clanging brass bells in the silence of the room. "I will walk my own path," she continued, as her eyes shone as bright as the jewel they resembled. "I will be my own person," she finished, and her hair, black as the ink she used to write, lay spread across her pillow as she fell asleep.

If anyone had been there to listen, they would have heard the sound of scissors. _Snip, snip, snip_, they sounded three times before quiet blanketed the room again. The puppet's strings had been cut, and no amount of repairing would ever fix them.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey everyone! Yes yes, I know I said weekends, but yesterday was my sister's birthday and I decided to celebrate. Besides, I've been home sick from school for the past couple of days, so I have a bit more time to write. and don't worry, I'm still going to update on Saturday, so you lucky people get <em>two<em> whole chapters in one week.**

**I want to know what you think; should I make this an 'everyone lives' story or not? There's going to be a poll on my profile, if you want to vote. It's totally up to you people, I can go either way. ****(PS, I stop taking votes when I post chapter 6)**

**I'm setting you all a target: 16 reviews total by Saturday, or I post the chapter on Sunday (lightning crackles in the distance as I laugh hysterically). I know, I'm a bitch, but I'm the bitch in charge of this story, so there.**


	6. Radagast returns, and Gandalf is a troll

It had taken four days after she had woken up to be cleared by the healer. Laelynn had tried to escape as often as she could, but he literally appeared out of nowhere, _every _time, and chivvied her back to the bed. Once she had been cleared, though, she'd jumped out of the bed and ran for the door, shouting "Freedom!" as she left. The ellon had only watched her go, then turned to make the bed.

She ran through the halls, taking little note of her surroundings. However, it meant that when she finally stopped, Laelynn didn't have clue where she was. To her left was a mural of a large, shadowy figure, reaching for the person on the ground in front of it. The figure was holding the hilt of a blade in front of them, in a weak defence.

To her right was a stone statue of a woman, in her arms a flat surface. It was covered by a cloth, and on the cloth … she got closer. On the cloth were the shards of a sword. The piece attached to the hilt looked remarkably like the one from the mural, and a glance behind her showed that, yes, it was the same blade.

"Are you alright miss?" pipped up an inquisitive voice, and Laelynn turned to see a short boy standing next to her, bright blue eyes shining curiously. She jumped, startled.

"How'd you get so close?" she asked him, and received a half-shrug in return.

"I dunno," he said carefully, "I guess I'm just a quiet person." He changed the topic, his interest rekindled, "Those are the Shards of Narsil," he said cheerfully, pointing at the sword pieces on the statue. "It belonged to Isildur; he's the man in the picture there," he said, and pointed to the mural on the wall.

"Who are you?" she asked him, "I wasn't aware there were children in Rivendell."

"Oh, there aren't," he responded, "I'm Estel, the only kid in the Last Homely House," he said proudly.

"But what about me?" she asked him, feeling mischievous, "Aren't I a kid too?" The poor boy's eyes widened.

"No!" he gasped, mouth forming a perfect little 'o', "You're much too tall to be a kid."

"Thank you!" she said happily. At least someone thought she was tall. "Now," she said, struck by a whimsical urge, "Young Master Estel," he giggled at the long unnecessary title, "Would you be ever so kind as to escort me to the gardens? I'm afraid I've become quite lost."

The child played along, "Of course, Lady…" he trailed off.

"Laelynn," she supplied.

"... Lady Laelynn," he continued, extending his arm, "Allow me to show you the way." She giggled, and the two skipped away, leaving the shards of the blade behind them.

* * *

><p>"Thank you," she called as he was dragged away by his mother, who wore a rueful smile. Estel waved in return, before the two round a corner, blocking her view of them. The two had made it to the gardens, before the child's mother had appeared, berating him for skipping his lessons.<p>

Laelynn wandered the gardens, admiring the arrangements of the flora and fauna, and stopping to smell a flower or two. Some elves were trimming a bush with large red flowers, and she decided to swoop in and take one to put in her hair. Cackling, she rushed away with her spoils, and the gardeners only watched her go in confusion.

The sounds of laughter and yelling reached her, and curious she followed the noise, while tucking the flower behind her ear. As she rounded a corner, she immediately wished she hadn't. There, in a fountain by the fall, the dwarves were bathing. All of them. Bathing. Which meant they were butt naked. She immediately covered her eyes with her hands, trying to back away.

"Ay, Laelynn," called a dwarf (and it was probably Kíli), "Care to join us?" Now she knew it was Kíli, and if she took her hands away from her eyes, she would probably — _definitely _— see him waggling his eyebrows.

"I'm good, thanks," she yelled back, still trying to get the _fuck _away from the buck-ass nude dwarves. Laelynn finally found the way she had come, and stumbled down it, ignoring the whoops from behind her.

She didn't remove her hands until she literally walked into someone, and even then they had to pried from her face. "Are you quite alright?" asked Radagast, and the girl (upon realising who he was) promptly wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

"You're ok," she said gladly. No, she wasn't crying; there was just a speck of– of– she just _wasn't_, ok?

"Of course I am," he said, seemingly content to stand there being crushed by her, "Now why don't you tell me what happened while I was gone?" he asked, "For example; why are you running through the gardens with your eyes covered?"

"The dwarves were _bathing _in a _fountain_," she said rapidly, and not-a-man laughed.

"They will tend to try and do anything to make the elves uncomfortable," he replied. The two walked in the garden, talking. Laelynn told Radagast everything, from how she was from another world, to her favourite flavour of ice cream (she had been shocked when she learned there was no ice cream in Arda), to how she wasn't even human, and what that had brought her. He listened, and in return he told her about himself; living in the Greenwood (which was becoming known as 'Mirkwood'), his role taking care of all the animals and plants there, and how he and Gandalf were also not men, but Istari.

"So you two are wizards?" asked the girl, sitting on a bench at the side of the path. A tree was growing next to it, its branches providing shade in the mid-afternoon sun.

"If you're going to be concise, then yes," said Radagast, making the crystal on the edge of his staff glow.

"Would I be classified as an Istari?" asked Laelynn, pulling her wand from her boot and twirling it between her fingers. Purple sparks flew from the end. Radagast began to answer, but before he could, she began to talk again. "You do know you have something," she said, wiping the side of her face, "Around there, right?"

The Istari put his hand to his own face, and felt the dried bird droppings that had accumulated. "No," he answered, "I was entirely unaware of it." He made no move to clear it off, though, once he had learned about it. "People underestimate me, since I act the way I do," he said, in reply to her questioning look. She nodded in understanding; she used that act as well.

"So tell me about how you knew Bella's name earlier?" he asked, and they began to talk again, Laelynn explaining how she had the curious ability to be able to recognise and speak many _many _languages, and the conversation moved to other topics. Only when a firefly landed on the tip of her nose did they finish speaking, because the girl stopped asking about Radagast's other friends to stare at the lightning bug in surprise.

"I believe," said the Brown Wizard, standing up and extending an arm to her, "You should be getting back to your rooms." he started to push her towards the staircase that went straight to her bed, but she resisted.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" she asked him. He looked forlorn.

"I can't promise," Radagast said, "You know the Greenwood needs me, after all." The moon retreated from behind a cloud, and shone upon the now hugging duo. Laelynn was just a bit taller than the Istari, but felt safe and protected in his arms.

"Even if you're leaving at the worst time, you have to tell me so i can say goodbye." Laelynn stated into his shoulder. he chuckled deeply, the reverberations vibrating through him.

"I promise," he said warmly, and the two detached. She turned and left, thinking about her strange and sudden friendship with the Wizard. They had only spoken twice the last time they saw each other, yet now were thicker than thieves.

"Good luck, child," said the Wizard quietly once she had gone. His voice hardly more than a whisper on the breeze. "Good luck," he turned, and left in a different direction.

* * *

><p>The next morning Radagast did have to leave (and he did say goodbye to her at the edge of the bridge the group had crossed), and after Laelynn wandered the grounds. She was moping, the departure of her new and unexpected friend hitting her harder than she thought it would. <em>Makes sense though<em>, she decided, _after all, he is one of the only people in this world who has listened to me_.

Gandalf found her by where she had seen the dwarves the day before (and hadn't they teased her about that at breakfast. However, they weren't being malicious or cruel, and five minutes later had gone on to tease Kíli about her rejecting him). The weren't in the fountain though, and for that she was grateful; she really didn't want a repeat.

"Ah, Laelynn," he started, "Just the woman I was looking for." he paused, then continued in a slightly different tone of voice (not Sindarin though. She was getting better at figuring out when people were speaking it), "I believe I have found a solution to your … problem." He paused, to let her collect herself, and for that Laelynn was grateful. Her thoughts had started whirling, trying to figure out the probability of what he said being true, and observing Gandalf to see if he was lying.

"…what?" she finally asked, after a minute of silence. Gandalf looked slightly annoyed.

"I said, I may have a way for you to return to your home." She decided to listen, see if his idea had any merit. Besides, no one else had showed up with a solution, viable or not. "There is a stone the dwarves have, the 'Arkenstone', they call it. It was used in the past to transport miners in and out of caves unreachable from the surface, so they could get to the jewels or precious metals inside. My thought was—"

"—it may be able to get me back," Laelynn finished for him. "I dunno Gandalf, are you sure it will work?" she asked dubiously.

"No," he replied immediately, "But I think it's better than what you've been able to come up with." He had her there. Elrond had come to her while she was stuck in bed, and told her he didn't know any way to get her to her home, but she was always welcome at Rivendell. Galadriel had said the same, and had extended an invitation to a place called Lothlórien when she had visited a second time. She had also said she would get an elf called Thranduil to look out for her in Mirkwood, but if she went it would be up to her to explain her position.

"Where is this 'Arkenstone'?" she asked him, and he looked indubitably smug.

"In the mountain of Erebor, although you will have to explain to the king what it can do," Gandalf replied. "His father was unable to tell him the secret before he died, and only a few others know it's power."

"And?" she asked. Gandalf wasn't telling her something, she knew it.

"The current king will explain," he deflected. "Now, the company of dwarves you are staying with are going to the mountain themselves. When they leave, I want you to join them. Just say I sent you."

Before she could ask anything else, Gandalf left, saying he needed to talk with 'Saruman' about something, who she knew was the head of the White Council thanks to Radagast. "Wait," she called after him, "Come back! Gandalf, I _haven't agreed to this_! GANDALF!" The wizard poked his head back through the doorway he had left through.

"What?" he asked with a shit-eating grin, "I'm sorry, Laelynn, I do need to go." He left again, and the girl just stood there for a moment, before hurrying after him. When she got to where he had been, he was already gone.

_Fuck you, Gandalf_, she thought, going to find Arwen; if she was going on an adventure, she'd need _loads _more. She hated to say it, but it was true; she didn't have a better option. _Fuck you_.

* * *

><p><strong>Hi everyone! Can I just say, thank you so much for the reviews; it's really made my day. And cfore, those are some good points, so I decided to answer them here.<strong>

**First of all, Chapter 4 is not meant to be an explanation for Laelynn (that's coming later), it's just meant to showcase some of the bullying she received at Hogwarts. And in regards to someone decent giving her a name, have you ever heard of referring to someone by their last name? I've seen loads of fics where Slytherins refer to each other by last name only, and if you've ever read 'The Silver Chair' by C. S. Lewis (yeah, the Narnia guy), you can see there Eustace and Jill refer to each other as Scrubb and Pole. So, I imagine Laelynn just asking her friends to call her by her last name instead.**

**"But Noodle," you cry, "Why didn't she say so when Lindir asked her?" The reason for that is, while her teachers call her Miss Potter and her friends call her Potter, it's not _her_ name, it's James and Lilly and Harry's name. So that's why she says she has no name (and it's totally not because**** her name being an issue in Hogwarts only occurred to me now, because of cfore's review. Maybe after I finish this, I'll go back and rewrite some parts, so it makes more sense. But, for now, if you spot anything don't be afraid to call me out on it, and we'll see what explanation my caffeine-driven brain comes up with)**

**Oh, in regards to the Hogwarts letter, Dumbledore just pulled her aside one day and said, "You're going to Hogwarts, this is what you'll need."**

* * *

><p><strong>So that's chapter six. Here you go readers, have fun. Last week it was three reviews, let's up the ante and say five reviews before Saturday next week, or I update on Sunday instead (PS, if you give me more, I may update earlier ;)).<strong>

**Noodle.**

**PS, the poll on the Durin's survival is still open, so go vote now!**


	7. Departure from Rivendell (finally)

Laelynn wandered around, looking for the elleth. She wasn't where Lindir had taken her to first meet her (though she may be in the wrong area: all the hallways looked the _same_). She then decided to speak to her when she next saw her, and started looking for the library. She hadn't had a chance to see it yet, and wanted to before leaving. After all, Thorin had said they would be staying for eight days, and this was the sixth.

A few minutes later, Laelynn realised she didn't actually know where the library was. She stood in the corridor, stumped, until she saw an elf walking the other way. "Excuse me," she called, walking towards them. It was Sadron, she realised, upon closer examination. He looked at her, surprised. "Oh, hey Sadron."

"Hello Laelynn," he replied, "Are you alright? That is to say, you look a bit lost." Her cheeks flushed red.

"Do you know where the library is?" she asked, trying _not _to think about her horrible sense of direction.

"Up those stairs," he pointed behind him, "Until you see the statue of the woman holding a stone flower; it's at the end of that hall. The Lady Arwen is also there," he added, "she's waiting for you." _Oh good_, she thought, _I can ask for more tea now_. She was about to leave, when Sadron put a hand on her arm, "I have to warn you, one of those," his lip curled unpleasantly, "Dwarves is in there."

"Why do you need to warn me?" she asked him. She tried to shake off his hand, but it tightened around her arm.

"Just stay away from it, alright," he said, grip getting tighter with every word he spoke, "Promise me."

"You're hurting me," cried Laelynn, wrenching his arm from him. He looked shocked for a moment, before his eyes hardened.

"I apologise," he said stiffly, "But I need your word you will stay away from it." Sadron locked gazes with her, and her heart gained another crack as she realised he thought he had her best interests at heart.

"I'm sorry," she said, "But I can't give you that." The ellon's entire demeanour changed. Whereas before he had been, if a bit intense, nice enough, he was now cold, standoffish even.

"I see," he said curtly, "If you excuse me, I must be going." Sadron strode off, leaving behind a confused (but resigned) Laelynn. _Why would he warn me against dwarves_? she wondered, even though she already knew the answer. _Is it too hard to not hate someone just because of prejudices_? she wondered with a sigh. Still, she supposed it was for the best, him going away; she didn't tolerate racists, and that's exactly what Sadron was. But, as she walked up the steps, Laelynn still let herself mourn the budding friendship they had started.

* * *

><p>Entering the library, Laelynn, for a long time, just stood there staring at the shelves in front of her. <em>I think this is bigger than the Hogwarts library<em>, she thought in awe, eyes flicking from shelf to shelf. Only when an elf politely asked her to move did she remember she was in there for a reason.

She walked around, picking up more than a few books that had caught her eye (gotta love history — at least when it wasn't taught by Binns), while looking for Arwen. Finally, her eye caught the sight of her friend sitting near one of the long windows, and she started moving towards her. She was chatting with a dwarf, and as she got closer, she realised it was Ori.

"Hello Arwen, Ori," she said, nudging a chair with her foot towards them. The dwarf jumped, while the elleth merely laughed.

"Hello Laelynn," She replied warmly, a smile tugging her lips, "I've been looking for you."

"About that," said the girl, "Why did you chose the library, of all places to meet?"

"Your stories showed you like to read," answered Arwen, taking a book off the tall stack Laelynn was carrying with a smile, "But I can see this wasn't the case."

"Oh yes," Laelynn replied sarcastically, putting her stack of books on the table, "I'm just carrying these around for _fun_." She collapsed into the chair she had pushed over. Ori was watching the exchange with wide eyes.

"Besides," Arwen continued, "The company is rather nice." Poor Ori sat there with his ears bright red.

"I– I wouldn't say that," Ori stuttered quietly. Arwen frowned.

"Oh please, Ori, you're wonderful company," she said, and Laelynn nodded in agreement.

"She's right, Ori, you can't deny it," she stated, then turned to Arwen, "I suppose you know why I wanted to talk to you."

The elf nodded, "I've put enough tea for 6 months in your room," she said to the girl, "You can gather or buy the plants needed to make more, I don't doubt. Also, there is a large quantity of _waybread_ with it, for your journey. Laelynn was honoured: the elf had told the qualities of Lembas to her (during her stay in the healing rooms), and how it was only given to those deemed worthy of it (she had tried some Arwen had sneaked her. It was _nice_).

"Oh, _thank _you Arwen," she said, trying desperately to she how grateful she was. The elleth seemed to get the message.

After that, the original occupants of the table had continued their discussion, inviting the newcomer to join them. Any elf who had passed their table would have been shocked to see an elf, a dwarf, and (what looked like) a child of man having an engaging debate. They would have been even more surprised to find the three were discussing how one would travel between worlds (Laelynn kept the knowledge of what Gandalf told her in her pocket, unwilling to share it while she was uncertain it would work).

* * *

><p>Two days later, Lord Elrond disappeared after dinner, Thorin and Balin following while Bilbo and Gandalf brought up the rear. The other dwarves didn't seem to notice, or if they did, they didn't mind.<p>

Laelynn thought back over the last couple of days; she had joined Arwen and Ori in the library since she had gone to find the elleth. She had found that while the dwarf was a quiet reader, the elf would yell at the book she was reading when something happened in it (she did it too, but only when she was alone). More than once, an elf had come to chastise them, only to find her and Ori looking at Arwen with indulgent smiles, while the elf loudly scolded the book in front of her.

Emerging from her memories, she found the dwarves had left to go back to their rooms, while elves were clearing the tables. Arwen was waiting in the doorway for her, ready to lead her to her room in case she got lost (She knew it was a legitimate concern, but would it _kill _Arwen to stop taking the mickey?).

Laelynn spotted Thalion, and slipped over to him. The ellon stiffened in surprise as she snaked her arms around him for a backwards hug. "What…" he started, before realising who was behind him. The elf gave a reluctant sigh, and turned to face her. "What brought this on?" he asked her.

"I don't know when I'm leaving," she said into his chest. The other elves in the room kept throwing the pair small smiles. "This is my goodbye," she finished, and continued to hug him. Thalion sighed, and hugged her back.

"You have to come back and visit," he told her, holding her at arms length. Laelynn met his eyes and nodded. "Good," he said, and crushed her to his chest again.

"Now," he said after a moment, "I think the Lady Arwen is waiting for you." The girl detached herself from him and skipped to the door. The elf in the doorway extended her hand, and together the two left the room.

Daeron looked at him, "Mithrandir better bring that girl back," he said, before handing Thalion a half-eaten bowl of soup. His friend was right, he decided, Mithrandir better bring Rivendell's _loth anel_ back in one piece, or more than one elf wouldn't be happy.

* * *

><p>"What did you mean, you don't know when you're leaving?" asked Arwen as Laelynn walked next to her, "Aren't you staying here?"<p>

Laelynn looked sadly back at the elleth as she ascended the stairs, "Arwen, it's been wonderful here," she said, walking backwards, "But I need to get back to my world." She was lying to herself, and she knew it; she could stay in Rivendell, or Middle Earth, and never worry about her old life again. No one would miss her, and if some did, they would heal.

But she couldn't. Harry Potter was in no way equipped to fight the Dork Lord (whenever she said Voldemort, it freaked people out; some reacted violently. She adapted), and she wouldn't leave the few friends she had for dead.

Arwen seemed to have recovered from her brief spell of silence. "But where will you go?" she asked, as they came up to the door to the guest rooms.

"Gandalf said the dwarves may have a way," she replied, "It's better than anything else I've heard."

"You have to come back before you go," the daughter of Elrond replied, "Promise me."

Laelynn laughed, "If I can, I will," she said, "But if I can't, Gandalf will pass on my message, alright?"

Arwen smiled through the tears in her eyes, "Alright," she agreed, then gathered the smaller girl into her arms. "Be safe, Laelynn." she said.

"Of course, _my friend_. Tell Lindir goodbye for me, please," she asked, then a wicked smile curved her lips, "And tell him Sadron will snap up Thalion unless he actually gets his arse in gear, would you?" Arwen laughed, the tinkling sound ringing through the deserted corridor.

"Of course," she echoed, and they embraced again.

"I'll miss you," Laelynn said, once they'd separated.

"And I, you," replied Arwen, "Goodbye, _my friend_." She retreated down the corridor, and when she looked beck, Laelynn still by the door. The girl pressed her right fist to her chest, and bowed slightly to the elleth. She gave a watery chuckle, and returned the gesture to the retreating figure, who smile and entered the Guest Wing behind her.

The dwarves were asleep on their pile in the centre of the common. Laelynn nodded to Bifur, the only one awake, who nodded in reply. She entered the room, and looked at the bed; all she wanted to do was sleep.

But before she could sleep, she had to pack. _Joy_.

* * *

><p>Laelynn sat on the bed cross-legged, grabbing one of the travelling bags she had been given (courtesy of Arwen) her way. Pulling out her wand, she cast an Undetectable Extension Charm on the bag, absently noticing how her magic came much easier. Casting a Feather-Light Charm, she realised her wand felt much more in tune with her magic as well.<p>

Laelynn amused herself, casting different spells at her bags as she packed, until a few hours later she heard the sounds of movement outside her door. Looking out the window, she saw how high the crescent moon had risen. Once she concentrated, she realised it was just the dwarves packing to leave, and went back to packing, to find she had finished.

Just the dwarves… packing… She slapped her forehead in frustration. _Those dwarves packing are the ones you have to travel with, dipshit_, she scolded herself, as she pulled on her cloak and picked up her bag. To anyone but her, it would look like it only held a day's worth of food and water, as well as a change of clothes and a baker's dozen of tea bags filled with Travelling Tea (the rest she kept in her pouch). In reality, it held nearly everything, but only what she could replace.

Slipping her pack onto her back, Laelynn exited her room to find the dwarves had already left. Cursing under her breath, she ran towards the bridge they had crossed, only sparing a moment to wonder why she was suddenly so good at directions. _You can worry later, now __**run**_, she told herself, and forced the thought from her mind. After all, dwarves were fast, and she wasn't going to be left behind.

Reaching the bridge, Laelynn took a moment to catch her breath, and looked up to the outcropping she had first seen the valley from. Walking in a line were all 13 dwarves, and the Hobbit (she had learned his race at dinner that first night) — but no Gandalf. _Where is he_? she thought, eyes scanning the group, _he can't expect me to join their group without him, can he_?

At that moment, Bilbo turned (probably for a last look at Rivendell), and she ducked behind one of the statues. No _way _was she getting caught by them without the wizard. She'd follow behind, and if they needed help she'd help them, but before that she was staying far away. Besides, if they caught her before Gandalf showed up, she'd be shipped back to Rivendell before she could say _Quidditch_.

Because in Arda, according to the books Laelynn had read, women were supposed to _stay at home_ (after reading that, the attendant had to come shush _her _because she was swearing so loudly. Arwen wasn't any help, doubled-over laughing, while Ori looked shocked and impressed at her language). And if one of those dwarves was stupid enough to try and send her back to Rivendell because she was _female_, she'd stick her sword so far up their arse they'd _taste _the hilt.

Peering round, Laelynn realised the dwarves had left the valley, and thanked the statue before hankering up the path after them. Once standing on the outcrop, she looked back over Imraldis, only now awakening as the Sun started to grace the sky, and sent a silent goodbye to the Last Homely House. A shiver of wind blew along the path, sweeping through her hair and blowing it out behind her, and she knew it was Rivendell saying goodbye in return.

Laelynn turned, and continued up the mountain.

* * *

><p><strong>Hi everyone. Here's chapter 7, which means the poll is now closed. I've gone over the results, and with a staggering 100% of the votes, the Durins will live. Seriously, over every account, everyone voted for their continued survival (guess I'll have to throw away that teary death scene I haven't actually written then...). So we've finally left Rivendell. It's only taken <em>six fucking chapte<em>****.**

**Also, just to make it clear for everyone, Laelynn can understand any language, so random words (like _my friend_, or _waybread_) in italics are actually her or someone else speaking in another language (and no this isn't because I couldn't be bothered to find the translations, what are you on about?).**

**I'm disappointed. All I asked for was 5 reviews. _5_. And last week you were wonderful about it, this time I got only _2_. Still, no use crying about, I suppose. So I'm begging you, please, all I want are two more reviews. Just two, so the total reaches 20. _Please_? I'll post a little oneshot about Laelynn's life at Hogwarts if you reach 25 before next Saturday.**

**My sister's having her 13th birthday party today and I'm being kicked out to make room, so I guess this chapter is dedicated to her. Happy birthday Lizy, you're a teenager now.**

**Edit 1/2/15: _loth_ is 'flower' in elvish, and _anel_ is 'daughter', so _loth anel_ is supposed to be 'flower daughter' (flower coming from Laelynn's name, which means 'flower of hope'). Hope that clears _that_ up as well.**


	8. Just your average near-death experiance

On the first day after leaving Rivendell, Laelynn decided following the dwarves was fairly easy; they were louder than a herd of rampaging hippogriffs (and didn't _that _bring back memories).

On the second day she decided that, while they _did _take care to hide evidence of their camp sites, they were no match for her skills (at least _some _of her lessons were being put to good use. She didn't think she'd ever have to barter with _royalty_). It was a good thing she wasn't some assassin sent to kill them, or they'd be dead five times over in their first day of travel.

On the third day Laelynn decided that the scenery was rather boring, and that she was thankful her fires let out no smoke. That evening she tried to puzzle out her new sense of direction. Before her stay in Rivendell, she would never have know Thorin (because who else would be leading?) kept aiming the group ahead too far to the South to reach the pass it was obvious he was aiming for. She found no answer that night.

On the fourth day, she saw Gandalf walking a few leagues away. He hadn't noticed her, and was instead keeping his eyes on the dwarves and Bilbo. _That utter arse_, she repeatedly thought through the day, when it became obvious Gandalf wasn't joining the group yet.

On the fifth day, Laelynn lost sight of Gandalf, but didn't worry too much. _After all_, she thought with a mouthful of bread, _he __**is **__an Istari_. That day was also the day she dreamed for the first time in Middle Earth, and even then it was only snatches of scenes;

_A group of people sitting round a table _(the Order of the Phoenix, her brain supplied, recognising some from a photo she had seen)_, all talking loudly over each other—_

_Percy screaming at his mother and father, red in the face, a trunk held in one hand. A second later the door to their kitchen slammed shut, his family watching it with wide eyes—_

_Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger standing in front of Dumbledore as he explained something _("He still lives," she heard him say)_, an expression of shocked horror on each face—_

_Severus Snape kneeling in front of a man with snakelike features, and eyes red as blood with slitted pupils. "My Lord," he said, extending his left arm, sleeve bared to show a pulsating black mark _(a snake protruding from a grinning skull) _on his forearm—_

_Three people, standing around a table, playing a game, which changed with every moment, from chess to cards to dice. Then, as one, all three turned to stare straight at her. "Soon," said one, "__**Soon**_"—

Laelynn's eyes flew open, her breath coming in short gasps as she tried to process what she'd seen. Her fire was still blazing as high as it had when she'd lit it, the bluebell flames showing no sign of going out, and the warmth emanating from it gave her a chance to gather her wits.

_What_, she thought, _was __**that **__supposed to be_? Because in her heart, Laelynn knew that each and every thing she'd seen had been true, the same way she knew the fire was hot and anything that could be eaten by the youngest Weasley, would. _But __**why**_, she wondered, _how do I know this, I've never seen anything like that before_. But like with her new sense of direction (Thorin was a fucking idiot, the Misty Mountains were _that _way), the answer eluded her.

* * *

><p>A week later she woke to find a Warg snarling at her from across the clearing. Quick as lightning, she grabbed a dagger from her boot and sprung at it. The Warg, not expecting her action, hesitated a moment, but that was all Laelynn needed to slit it's throat.<p>

She decided to skin the beast, as it's snow-white fur was warm and would make a good cape. She cleaned her knife in the grass, and set about her task. She first cast a spell to get rid of all the fluids in it's body, then took her knife and carefully cut a line down it's chest.

As Laelynn worked, the sky turned from the dusky purple preceding sunrise to a brilliant orange, interspersed with streaks of red and gold. By the time the sun was starting to chase away the night, any remaining stars winking out of sight, she had fashioned (with abundant use of magic) a fine cape, which would be useful for the coming colder nights.

While she had been sewing, Laelynn had heard the dwarves wake and pack up their camp, but stayed focused on her task: she could easily catch up, after all. Storing the coat in her pouch (it's not like she needed it now), Laelynn pulled out a tea bag and started to brew her morning cuppa. While the taste was slightly bitter, it was a small sacrifice if it meant her periods stopped. Unfortunately, the Wizarding World had no equivalent to birth control pills (the only way to keep from having children was a spell), and no pounds sterling meant she couldn't get Muggle ones.

Laelynn finished her brewing, and decided that she wouldn't chance eating the meat, not if there was a chance it wasn't safe for consumption. However, meat wasn't the only thing left on the carcass…

* * *

><p>Another five days passed, until Laelynn suddenly found herself waking one morning to find a cloud only a few metres above her; they had made it into the Misty Mountains. Avoiding the Company's attention was harder now, as there were no places to hide if roaming eyes looked to the path behind, but it was still easy to duck behind the curve of the path, or even cast a quick Disillusionment charm.<p>

Then the rain started.

It was _miserable_. Only the copious use of Impervious and drying charms kept Laelynn and her things from being soaked to the bone, and even then, she had shoved her new Warg cape into her pouch to protect it. However, she still felt the chill of the wind, and sympathised with the dwarves, because if it was nasty with just the wind, then the added rain must be torture. Not to mention, their inability to make a fire for lack of dry wood. The path had become slippery, and more than once she had nearly fallen off trying to stay out of sight. Despite all this, it wasn't till the third day of the storm when things became… interesting.

The lightning had started. Before it was just wind and rain (which were horrible enough on their own), but with lightning added to the mix… Laelynn could only hope no one was struck off the mountain. The dark — even in the day — meant she had to stay closer to the group to see them, which heightened her chances at getting caught.

The path crumbled beneath the very feet of one of the group, and he was only saved by the fast actions of one of the others. Laelynn let her arm drop, but kept her wand in her hand, holding fast to it to lessen the chance of the wind or rain tearing it from her hands.

Someone shouted something to another, but both party's voice's were lost on the wind. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a large boulder heading for the cliff face, and had only a second to brace herself before it hit the mountain. Rocks rained down on the group and Laelynn, and one glanced off her arm. The unmistakable crack of a broken bone filled the air, and as the dwarves tried to find who was hurt, Laelynn could only be glad she'd stashed all her things in her pouch: if she hadn't, her pack would've probably fallen into the gorge, and she might've been dragged along with it.

Laelynn shoved the pain to the back of her mind (she could deal with it later; Moody had given her much worse when he finally agreed to train her — through nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix — and made her continue), and looked across the divide.

What she saw nearly had her tumbling off the edge anyway; it was a vaguely humanoid figure, at least as tall as the mountain at her back, and looked to be made of rocks. "Stone Giants," had filtered through the rain earlier, and she supposed this must be one of them. It was reaching back, as if to throw something… a rock sailed towards the mountain, and in response the rock behind her shifted. _What the __**hell**_, her mind screamed, but she shoved that thought away; she could deal with it _later_.

"Kíli!" screamed a dwarf, as the rock behind her shifted apart, becoming legs for another one of the creatures, "Grab my hand!" The anguish in that voice had Laelynn realising Fíli must be calling for his brother, as the group was split down the middle. She struggled towards the group, letting her spells drop to free her energy. She reached them as the leg the other group were on slammed into the mountainside. All of them tumbled off it, and looked in horror towards their companions (none of them had realised she was there yet. In another situation it might have been funny), who were being forced away as the giant moved.

Laelynn was holding on for dear life, both to her wand and the rock beneath her, as the giants began fighting. She didn't even notice when another giant beheaded theirs, but she sure as hell did when they went crashing into the face of the mountain. The group, by some twist of fate, didn't end up smeared against the rocks, but landed in a heap on the path below. The mountain shook as the dead giant hit the bottom of the chasm, and the tremor was enough to send Laelynn falling off the path.

She grabbed for a handhold, and tasted blood as she bit her tongue trying not to scream. Oh yeah, her arm was _fucking broken_. Bilbo, also jostled by the shaking of the mountain, rolled off the path as well. She shot out her other arm to catch him, while maintaining her iron grip on her wand.

"Who…" he started, but the mountain trembled again, and Laelynn had to readjust her grip, something that made her arm scream in agony. She grunted in pain, but grit her teeth against any other noises threatening to slip out.

"Where's Bilbo?" a panicked voice drifted over the cliff edge, "Where's our hobbit?" She was pretty sure it was Bofur.

"There!" cried another voice, and two dwarves jumped for them. Laelynn gave a cry as her hand failed for a moment, and she and Bilbo fell a bit more down the mountain before she could grab another handhold. Looking up, she saw more than a few dwarves were shocked at seeing her (decidedly feminine) features. _Men_ (well, technically dwarves, but _still_).

"Stop staring and help!" she screamed at them, only slightly out of frustration. Her arm had been yanked by the second fall, and Bilbo's weight wasn't helping. That shocked them to action, and as many dwarves as possible were hanging off the path to get the pair. She swung Bilbo up to someone's waiting arms, and with her other arm free, pulled herself up, still hanging onto her wand. She would honestly be surprised if it was _not _cracked, given how tightly she was holding it.

"Laelynn?" asked Bilbo, shocked, and she put her wand back into her holster before giving him a tired smile.

"Hey there, Bilbo," she said, tipping an imaginary hat demurely, "Fancy seeing you here."

Dwalin and Thorin were talking in low voices, until the King under the Mountain burst out angrily, "He's been lost ever since he left home." It was obvious they were talking about Bilbo, and Laelynn frowned slightly as the hobbit got a dejected expression. She had become a bit affectionate towards him while watching their camp, sympathising when the leader of their illustrious company was treating him with cool disdain.

The rest of the dwarves had finally seemed to realise who she was. "Laelynn?" Kíli echoed Bilbo (he even used the same shocked tone), and the girl felt every eye look at her again, taking in that yes, this _was _the girl they found three weeks ago. She wiggled her fingers in a little wave.

"In the flesh," she said. Thorin looked ready to interrogate her then and there, but Balin decided to employ some common sense and objected.

"We have to find shelter!" he cried over the wind, and Thorin looked over the group. Bilbo looked half-drowned, and the rest, while not as badly soaked, appeared farther from dry then Kneazles from Crups. They started moving then, looking for some crack or crevice to shelter in. Fíli and Kíli came back from where they'd scouted ahead, to lead them to a dry cave they'd found. Thorin and Dwalin were reluctant to enter, stating caves in the mountains were hardly unoccupied, but acquiesced when Bilbo gave a violent sneeze

The dwarves spread out around the cave, dumping weapons on the sandy floor, and Bilbo sunk to the ground in a corner. _Still in shock from falling off a mountain_, she thought, standing in the entrance. Laelynn made to go to an empty space at the edge of the cave, when her arm glanced off the entrance to the cave. A hiss of pain escaped her, and she drew her arm back to her side, cradling it against her body as she remembered (again), that the bone was broken.

Looking up, she saw Óin walking towards her, while Ori, Fíli, Kíli, and Bilbo watched. The others were still settling in, though Dori kept sending his brother worried looks when the younger's back was turned.

"Now lass," began the healer, still advancing, "Mind telling me what happened to yer arm?"

"Not much to tell, really," she said slightly louder than she normally would, holding her arm out to the dwarf, "The giants were throwing rocks, one hit my arm." Óin tsked as he inspected her outstretched limb from all angles.

"It's a clean break," he said, going to get his medical kit, "But if I don't set the bone, it'll heal wrong." He frowned, then poked her arm. Laelynn grit her teeth, but held back her retort; she was not the healer with years of experience. "In fact," he started slowly, "It's already started. We're going to have to re break the bone." She winced, as did the dwarves who had had to have a bone re broken themselves.

"Best get it over with, Master Óin," Laelynn sighed, pulling back the sleeve of her shirt. Óin handed her a strip of wood, then motioned for Dwalin to join him.

"What's this for?" she asked, turning it over in her hands.

"You bite it instead of your tongue," Dwalin said bluntly, moving to stand behind her. The other dwarves were watching the action unfold. Those that had gone through the procedure had expressions of sympathy, while those lucky enough not to looked on curiously. She took the wood and put it between her teeth.

"Ready?" Óin asked, and before she could say no, he had already broken her arm. Her scream of shock was muffled by the block in her mouth, and she threw a furious glare at the dwarf, who simply continued on, unconcerned. He started shifting the bones, and Laelynn really wished someone would talk or _something_, because the sound of her bones being realigned? On her scale of horrible noises, the crunching, grinding noise of bones shifting was worse Lockheart's pompous self-adoration, but still better than Molly Weasley's banshee screech. _Slightly_.

Five minutes later, Óin had finally finished. "Yeh alright lassie?" he asked, pulling out some bandages from his pack. Three minutes in, most of those watching had left out of boredom, and gone to light a fire. Thorin had stopped them though, so they were sitting in a huddle to stay warm.

"Just fine," she said, moving to make her arm easier to wrap. He grunted his thanks, and the two sat in silence as the rest of those watching left to scrounge some food from their packs. All but Bilbo.

"I do apologise if I hurt your arm," he said once Óin finished splinting it, "Hanging onto it, I mean." He looked so sad and contrite, Laelynn couldn't be angry at him (not that she was in the first place).

"No worries, Master Baggins," she replied, shooting him a grin, "You were hanging off the uninjured one, no harm done." He didn't look convinced, but he didn't look ready to throw himself off the mountain anymore, either. Fíli and Kíli had listened to their conversation, and were shooting her awed looks.

"You mean you hung off that mountain—" Kíli started.

"—using your _broken arm_?" Fíli finished (she was reminded forcefully of the Weasley Twins). The two boys seemed awestruck, and Laelynn supposed hanging off a mountain with a broken arm was pretty awe-worthy.

"I s'pose did," she answered. She turned, and was faced with the unrelenting stare of Thorin from across the cave. She stared right back, and after ten seconds off meeting his eyes, Fíli and Kíli started looking at her in awe again. A couple of the other dwarves (namely Balin and Dwalin) looked slightly annoyed at her defiance to their king, yet at the same time slightly respectful of her ability to do so.

He started after their staring contest reached a minute, "How long have you been following us?" he demanded.

"Until Gandalf gets here, I'm not saying anything," she replied. Thorin sputtered for a moment, before his eyes hardened into blue chips of ice. He glared at her for a moment longer, before spinning round and stalking off as far as he could in the cave, coat billowing behind him.

The others tried to get her to talk, but it only took a few fruitless attempts before they left the topic alone. After a dinner of crackers and cheese (Nori had given her some of his, despite her protests, and to take some of her own food out after would have been rude), Thorin gave Bofur the watch duty, and told them to turn for the night.

* * *

><p>Laelynn was woken by a stabbing pain in her arm, and sighed as she felt the effects of Skelegrow once again. She'd taken some after climbing into the blankets she'd been given (seriously, if they would just let her get to her pouch <em>before <em>offering all these things), and fallen into a fitful sleep; the dreams had continued, as they had every night since the first.

She'd actually been able to find some things out about what had happened while she'd been gone (if the dreams were true, which she was entirely sure they were). As far as she could tell, Voldemort had regained a body, Dumbledore had reinstated the Order of the Phoenix and told the Golden Trio about it, and Snape was once again spying.

She'd also found Percy had left his family (though for what reason, she didn't know), Cornelius Fudge had made his Under Secretary the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, said Under Secretary was a bigoted racist twat, and that Dipsy and the other House Elves were the only ones who had realised she was gone. The small Elf was continuously bawling, and every time she saw her Laelynn felt incredibly guilty about stray thoughts of staying on Middle Earth.

But she hadn't been able to find anything more on those three people from the first night. They didn't always show up, but when they did, they were playing their ever-changing game. And the one would always look up and say 'soon'. It was driving her up the metaphorical wall, and across the ceiling as well.

Trying to distract herself from the pain in her arm, Laelynn let her eyes wander around the cave, taking in the sleeping dwarves. They all looked so much more peaceful in sleep than in waking, but were just as loud. Their soft snores cut through the silence of the cave, broken only by the rain outside.

Her eyes caught on Thorin, who was awake and staring at her. She met his eyes, quirking her brow in a question. Before he could answer, Bofur's whispered voice flitted over to them, and both strained to listen.

"Where do you think you're going?" he questioned the hobbit. Laelynn, lifting her head a fraction, saw Bilbo standing by the mouth of the cave. _He must be trying to leave_, she thought, which was confirmed a moment later.

"Back to Rivendell," he said, staring at the dwarf. Laelynn ducked her head down a bit, but raised it a second later. Thorin's eyes were on her questioningly, and she knew it must be more difficult for him, seeing as he had only his ears to rely upon.

"No, no," whispered Bofur, moving to stand in front of the hobbit, "Ye can't turn back now. You're part of th…" She couldn't hear what he said next, but his voice became louder again, "You're one o' us." _Ah_. Bilbo was doubting his place in the Company.

"I'm not though, am I?" he replied, no longer whispering but still speaking quietly. Bofur must have made some sort of face, because Bilbo's voice softened faintly, "Thorin said I should've never have come, and he was right." Laelynn took a second to glare at the dwarf, who at least looked a tad contrite.

The hobbit tapped his walking stick on the floor twice, and turned to the cave entrance. Bofur spoke with a tine of understanding, "You're homesick," he said, then nodded his head, "I understand."

"No you don't!" Bilbo exploded in a whisper, "None of you do — you're _dwarves_." He pointed at the miner, "You– you're used to– to this life, to living on the road, never settling, not belonging anywhere!" His voice had gotten a tiny bit louder by the end, and Thorin looked offended and angry. Bilbo got a shamefaced expression, "I am sorry, I didn't…" he started, but trailed off; apologies would just be worthless after what he said, and he knew it.

The tension in Bofur's shoulders lessened a little, and he seemed to steel himself for his next words, "No, you're right," he said, then turned to look at the slumbering dwarves, "We don't belong anywhere." Thorin looked at the ground, a thousand emotions swirling in his eyes, and Laelynn looked at him in concern. "I wish you all the luck in the world," the dwarf said, and moved to clasp Bilbo's shoulder, "I really do."

Bilbo moved to leave, when Bofur pointed at his waist, "What's that?" he asked, and even from as far as she was Laelynn could see the blue light coming from Bilbo's scabbard. She sucked in a breath and dove for her sword.

A great creaking and groaning of machinery rumbled through the cave, and don the centre of the floor a crack started to widen. "Wake up! Wake up!" yelled Thorin, having realised what was going on. But he was too late. The dwarves tumbled down the widening crevice; Laelynn tried in vain to keep out of it, but it was all for naught, as she too fell into the great black tunnel.

The sides of the mechanism came together again, and sand fell from hidden machinery. When all movement had ceased, the cave was in exactly the same condition as the dwarves had found it; abandoned.

* * *

><p><strong>Hi everyone! I'm so sorry I didn't post yesterday, but was being dickish and wouldn't let me get into my account. On the plus side, here's chapter 8, and they've finally started moving! Amazing, I know. Now, I'm sorry for the dialogue between Bofur and Bilbo being almost exactly the same as the movie, but I am trying to not have that happen too much.<strong>

**Unfortunately, I've run out of chapters, and exams/controlled assessment (if you don't know what CA is, you are so very lucky) all of last week and this one means I may not have a chapter ready by next Saturday. I will try to write as much as possible, but it just might not happen. So, the next update may be next Saturday, but it may be the one after. Fortunately the week after next is half-term break, so I'll try and build my chapter store back up.**

**For the challenge I set you... I'm disappointed guys. Honestly, it would have only taken 2 more reviews to get that back story. _Two_. So, if you can get to 30 reviews before I update next, I will finish writing and post that oneshot. You have your challenge guys, now go for it!**


	9. Out of Goblin Town and into trouble

Staring at the pustule-filled, deformed face of the King Goblin, Laelynn decided that when she next saw Gandalf, she was going to rip his fucking beard off. That motherfucker was probably lounging around at the end of the mountain, waiting for the group. He'd be waiting for a long fucking time if some miracle didn't show up and save them.

After falling down the tunnel under the cave (and hadn't that been _fun_), the group had been captured by a load of Goblins (nothing like the ones at Gringotts; these ones were _definitely _not bankers). Their weapons had been stolen from them, and only a Confundus had them skipping her wand and knives. She had been too late for her sword, and it was sitting on the top of the pile of weapons being dragged along in one of the carts.

She'd grabbed Bilbo and shoved him to the middle of the group, along with Fíli, Kíli and Ori, so he was protected on all sides by the other dwarves and herself. They had been taken over rickety bridges and wooden platforms to a large cavern, where the Great Goblin lounged on his throne (he had to be him: who else would sit on a throne made of _bones_?).

He jumped off his throne (seriously, eww) and stomped over to the dwarves, crushing a number of smaller goblins underfoot. He sprayed spittle as he began to speak, "Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" he questioned, "Spies? Thieves? _Assassins_?" his voice increased in pitch with every word he spoke, until he was screeching into the silence that pervaded the cavern.

"Dwarves, Your Malevolence," said a small goblin in front of Laelynn, "A small child of some sort." She could feel Bilbo bristling behind her, but the goblin spoke again, "And a female." She scowled, and kicked it in the back, which gained her a screech of pain, but the damage had already been done.

"Oho oho, a _female_, you say?" asked the Great Goblin. He leaned forward until he was nose to nose with her, and Laelynn was using every ounce of self-control she had to not start retching at his stench. "Yes, definitely a female. Oh, we'll have _fun _with her, boys," he said, and there was a great cheer from the goblins perched around the cavern. He backed away, and turned to the goblin, who was still rubbing it's back.

"We found them on the Front Porch," it said, correctly divining what it's leader wanted to know.

"What are you waiting for?" he cried, "Search them! Every crack, every crevice!" The goblins surrounding them took to their task with glee, grabbing anything and everything from the group. Óin's hearing trumpet was crushed underfoot by a goblin, and others were dumping their packs out on the platform they were on (she was forever grateful she kept all her stuff in her pouch). A large number of things Laelynn remembered seeing in Rivendell fell out of one pack, and more than a few eyes turned to a sheepish-looking Nori.

"Jus' a couple of keepsakes," he stated at Dori's incredulous look. The Great Goblin had turned to stare at them again, after throwing one of the candelabras into the gloom of the cave.

"What are you doing in these parts?" he asked. No one answered, and he tried a different tack. "If they won't talk, we'll make them squawk," he shouted gleefully, and received a clamour of agreement from the goblins perched on the walls. "Bring out the Mangler!" he yelled, "Bring out the Bone-Breaker!" His eyes gained an unholy light, "We'll start with the female," he cried, pointing at her.

"'The female' has a name," Laelynn muttered petulantly, but her voice was lost in the din the goblins were making.

"Wait!" cried Thorin, stepping forward and pushing her back. She scowled at his back as the King Goblin peered closely at the dwarf. She wasn't completely defenseless; the goblins had, again, missed her knives and her wand, and she wasn't above stabbing one in the back if she could.

"Look who it is," the Great Goblin was saying, "Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror; King under the Mountain," he gave a greatly exaggerated bow. Thorin looked distinctly unamused. "But I'm forgetting," he continued, "You don't have a mountain. And you're not a king. Which makes you," he paused unpleasantly, "Nobody, really." From the way he was standing ramrod straight, Laelynn was certain Thorin was glaring at the Great Goblin. He wasn't the only one; many of the dwarves looked outraged at the slight on their leader.

The Great Goblin leaned in close to Thorin, "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head," he said, and grinned nastily as he stood up again. "Just the head, nothing attached." The goblins around them were getting excited, moving and chittering. Thorin's glare was getting stronger with every word the pestilent creature spoke. "Perhaps you know who I speak of," he continued, "A Pale Orc astride a White Warg," he paused, seemingly thinking, "At least, it was white until a few weeks ago ago."

Laelynn started in surprise, thoughts racing. Was the Warg she killed the Pale Orc's? It made sense, she supposed, as she'd never seen another Warg like that one. Granted, her knowledge of Wargs was limited, but in the library at Rivendell there had been books saying how White Wargs were incredibly rare to see.

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed," said Thorin, voice choked with emotion, "He was slain in battle long ago." To Laelynn, it looked like the dwarf was trying to convince himself what he said was true.

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" the Great Goblin said lowly, then began to laugh. It was a wheezy chuckle, and terrified Laelynn more than anything he had said earlier. "Send word to the Pale Orc," he said to a tiny goblin sitting in a basket. It scribbled onto a slate it was holding, "Tell him I have found his prize." The goblin cackled and swung away into the darkness.

From the walls of the cavern, goblins emerged, dragging torture machines on their shoulders. The Great Goblin was singing a horrible tune, about how they would be beaten and battered and all number of unpleasant things. The goblins around them were even more excited now, jumping around and getting ropes ready. A group of three descended on Laelynn, and only the quick actions of Bofur kept her from their ministrations (for the moment).

A goblin was looking at their weapons, and had picked up Thorin's blade. Laelynn had only a second to brace herself before a large shriek rang through the cavern. The Great Goblin was trampling goblins underfoot as he tried to get as far from it as physically possible.

"I know that sword!" he shrieked in terror, "It is Biter, the blade that slashed a thousand goblin necks!" The little piece-of-shit goblin that had talked to the Great goblin had corralled his fellows, and was directing them to whip the group with ropes. She winced as it dug into her skin of her face, and knew that in less than a day she'd have a nice line of welts across her cheek. _If you survive that long, that is_, she thought. Bilbo, she saw, had ducked out of sight of the goblins, and reached the pile of swords.

"Slash them!" yelled the Great Goblin, waving his arms around, "Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all!" he was becoming more and more hysterical, "Cut off his head!" A small goblin pulled a bone dagger from his belt, and jumped on top of Thorin. He raised it preparing to strike, when Bilbo tackled it from the side, his sword in his hands. They grappled for the blade, but another goblin took the first's place, raising it's blade to kill Thorin. Laelynn turned back to the goblin attacking her with it's rope, and wished that her death would be quick.

A blinding white light filled the cavern, muting the screeches of the goblins and knocking everyone to the floor. Many goblins were blown off the platform, including the one Bilbo was holding tight to. Her heart clenched, and she silently grieved for the hobbit. Nearly all the torches had been blown out as well, casting the cave into a deeper darkness then before the bright light. A figure was walking towards the group, sword drawn, hat standing tall upon his head.

Gandalf — that _motherfucker_.

"Take up arms!" he said slowly, the eye of every dwarf and goblin upon him. "Fight," he said, then repeated it in a much louder tone, "Fight!"

The wizard had spurred the dwarves to hope, and fight they did. Laelynn reached the pile of weapons, and started dispersing them amongst the dwarves, grabbing her own sword as she did so. Gandalf was fighting as well, swinging his sword and staff around, killing any goblin who came near him. She unsheathed her sword, and immediately put it to use decapitating the piece-of-shit goblin. A small smile graced her features.

"He wields the Beater," cried the Great Goblin, cowering at the edge of the platform, "Bright as daylight!"

The dwarves were fighting viciously, often teaming up to do the maximum amount of damage to the hordes of goblins. "Thorin!" someone cried, and the King turned to deflect a blow from the Great Goblin with enough force to send him (and a number of goblins behind him) falling off the platform.

"Follow me!" yelled Gandalf, swinging his sword at any goblin fool enough to go near him, "Quickly!" One by one, the group finished their fight and joined the wizard, and once all were in attendance they sprinted across the bridges of Goblin Town.

* * *

><p>"Quickly!" Gandalf yelled again, as hundreds of goblins chased after the group, shrieking and snarling. Running towards them came more goblins, and Dwalin looked around for a second.<p>

"Post!" he yelled, and some of the dwarves cut the ropes to one of the guardrails. Dwalin picked up the front, "Charge!" he cried, and they ran forwards, using the post to knock goblins off the bridge, clearing the way for them to run. Laelynn swung her sword at a goblin, knocking him off the path and onto a bridge below. It broke, sending him and the other goblins on it into the gloom.

She didn't know how long they'd been running, killing goblins, trying to stay alive. The monotony would be broken when she had to fight a particularly skilled opponent, or the dwarves pulled off a maneuver that by all means should have been anatomically impossible.

They reached a dead end, and Gandalf cut the ropes to the platform, allowing it to swing over to the side of the gap. Laelynn glanced behind her, at the mass of limbs that was the goblins chasing them, and her already low to begin with hope fell even lower. How were they going to get out of this?

Gandalf was leading them to an exit, she knew it. Now all they had to do was stay alive until they reached it, and pray that it was daytime outside. The goblins started to fall behind, and they reached a bridge devoid of anything. Laelynn almost relaxed for a split-second, before the Great Goblin burst through the planks of wood. Damn. Why couldn't he have died?

Goblins piled up on both sides of the bridge, meaning there was no chance of escape that way. Gandalf pushed the dwarves behind him as he moved to face the putrid creature.

"You thought you could escape me?" the Great Goblin cried, swinging his mace and pushing Gandalf back a few steps. "What are you going to now, Wizard?" he questioned, making Gandalf's title seem like an insult. From where he had fallen against the dwarves, Gandalf scowled, then lunged forward, poking the Great Goblin in the eye.

He howled in pain, flailing around, and when he turned to face Gandalf again, the Wizard sliced open his stomach. "That'll do it," he said, surprised. Gandalf sung his sword again, slicing the Great Goblin's throat and killing him instantly. The body toppled to the bridge, which swayed alarmingly.

"Gandalf…" Laelynn started hesitantly. The bridge cracked down the middle, and the section with the goblins stayed in place, while their section fell into the pit below. Sliding down the walls of the cave, Laelynn held tight to the wood beneath her while swearing loudly. Most of the other dwarves were also terrified out of their minds, but the ones that still could hear her over the rush of wind in their ears were looking at her with a mixture of awe and respect.

They crash-landed at the bottom of the pit, and Laelynn quickly removed herself from the rubble along with Gandalf. "Well that coulda been worse," said Bofur, his accent coming through strongly. The corpse of the Great Goblin suddenly slammed onto the wreckage, and many of the dwarves cried out in pain. Laelynn stifled her small grin.

"You've got ta be joking," said Dwalin, pushing the large arm off him and Thorin. The dwarves mostly got themselves out (with a lot of grumbling), before Kíli cried out.

"Gandalf!" he shouted, looking up. Laelynn did as well, then immediately wished she hadn't: thousands of goblins were crawling down the wall of the chasm they'd fallen into. The wizard looked over the dwarves, still struggling in the rubble.

"Only one thing will save us now," he cried, as those free of the rubble pulled out the dwarves still trapped, "Daylight!" Laelynn could only hope it was day outside, or it wasn't cloudy or some shit. They ran, weaving through the tunnels, until up ahead Laelynn saw a crack through which light was streaming through. She squinted at it, eyes watering at the light after who knew how long in darkness, and took little note of the laboured breathing coming from a side path: if it was a goblin, it would have already attacked.

They burst out of the crack in the mountainside, averting their eyes from the sun, shining above a forest in the distance (_Mirkwood_, her mind whispered). The group tumbled and trampled down the hilly slope, jumping and leaping over boulders and tree roots.

They reached a clearing and paused to catch their breath. Gasping for air, bent double and panting from exhaustion, the dwarves hardly moved as Gandalf counted them.

"Seven eight nine," he muttered, also struggling for breath, "Óin, Glóin, that's eleven…" He ended up with a total of thirteen, "Where's Bilbo?" he cried, "Where's our hobbit?"

Laelynn struggled to swallow the lump that rose in her throat, unbidden. "When you arrived," she started, and Gandalf's eyes snapped to her, "He was fighting a goblin." The Wizard's face paled. "I saw them fall off the platform," she swallowed again, "I think he didn't survive." There, she said it. There was silence, a moment of mourning for the hobbit. Even Thorin bowed his head.

"No, he did," chirped a voice from the side of the clearing, and as one the group turned to see Bilbo Baggins standing there, tucking something into his pocket. Fíli and Kíli gave yells of delight and tackled the hobbit. Gandalf was looking at him, or more specifically, his pocket, with narrowed eyes. Laelynn had retreated to the edge of the group, and was trying to clean the black blood off her blade. _You need a name_, she thought, resheathing it, _I think I'll call you Reaper_.

"What happened doesn't matter," Thorin was saying, "What matters is why he came back." The leaves on the trees surrounding them whispered as a light breeze flew through the clearing, while Bilbo and Thorin kept their gaze locked.

"I know you doubt me," the hobbit began, "And yes, I often think of Bag End," he gave a little shrug, "I miss my books. And my armchair, and my garden. It's where I belong, it's home. "That's why I came back," he continued, "'Cause you don't have one," he looked around the semicircle of dwarves, "A home." His eyes went back to Thorin, "It was taken from you. But I will help you get it back, if I can." Thorin looked away, as he and the other dwarves thought about what the hobbit had said. Gandalf was looking on with pride in his eyes.

"I'll help as well," Laelynn said, after waiting for the moment to pass. The dwarves' heads swivelled round to look at her, where she was leaning against a tree, arms folded in nonchalance.

"Yes, you," said Thorin, "Now Gandalf is here, explain." She moved closer to the company, away from the fringes of the trees, and sat on a conveniently-placed boulder.

"To answer your question," Laelynn started, "I've been following you since Rivendell." There was an uproar of noise, some of them yelling it wasn't possible, they'd've spotted her, and others (most noticeably Fíli and Kíli) wanting to know _how _she'd done it

"Why?" asked Thorin, and the voices of the other dwarves quieted as they leaned in to hear her answer.

"What a broad question." Laelynn laughed, "Why was I following you? Why am I here? Why do we breathe air instead of water, like fish?" Gandalf decided that then was his moment to shine.

"I asked her to join your company," he said, drawing the attention to him.

"You thought I would take a woman with us to Erebor?" Thorin asked, deadly soft. Laelynn bristled, but (barely) kept a hold of her temper. "No Gandalf, it is too dangerous." That hold on her temper? It was _this _close to snapping.

"But Thorin—" began Gandalf, but Thorin cut him off.

"No!" he said, "I will not endanger her nor my company. Take her back to Rivendell, Gandalf." She may have been able to keep her temper in check, if Thorin had not talked about her like she was an object Gandalf could stick in his pocket and tote around Middle Earth. Unfortunately for him, he did, and Laelynn saw red. Later she would probably regret it, but she was so _fucking _tired of people treating her differently because of something she couldn't control; her gender, her brains, her body, it didn't matter. Her wand shot into her hand, and Laelynn stood up, the flames of her temper shining in her eyes. Ori and Bilbo, the only two not focusing on the steadily heating argument between Thorin and Gandalf, tried to calm her down, but she was _done_.

A large sweep of her wand around the clearing had all noise ceasing. Gandalf and Thorin, who had been nearly screaming at each other, were now silent clutching their throats in shock. The other dwarves also seemed to realise their voices were gone (except Ori and Bilbo, who had the sense to stay quiet). One by one, the dwarves turned to see her standing tall on the rock, wand in hand and eyes aflame.

She stepped to the ground, and slowly walked towards Thorin. Laelynn stared at him, nose to nose, before speaking in a low voice that carried around the silence of the clearing. "Do not," she hissed, "_Ever_ presume that because I am a woman, I am weak, I am powerless, I am _lesser than you_." Another wave of her wand cancelled the spell, and the company celebrated the return of their voices by asking her questions all at once.

Gandalf intervened after a moment. "Enough," he cried, and did… _something_. She didn't know what, but one minute there was an old man leaning on his staff, the next, an ancient being of immense power, "If I say Laelynn is coming with us, then with us she will come." And suddenly he wasn't a great Wizard anymore, wasn't more powerful than anything she'd ever seen; he was just Gandalf, their old man and guide across Middle Earth.

"Plus," he added as an afterthought, "I have promised to try and get her home, and I am not one to renege on a promise." His piece said, he leaned on his staff, content to watch the action unfold.

"What he mean, he promised to take you home?" asked Ori, before Dori shushed him and pulled his brother behind him. She was treated to the distrustful glare of an overprotective family member. Laelynn sighed, before reclaiming her seat on the boulder.

"What Gandalf means," she replied, "Is what he said; he promised to try and give me a way home." She sat on the rock, waiting for the inevitable question. When it finally came, it came from someone unexpected.

"Where is your home then?" asked Thorin. She wondered how to explain (and how would she explain? How _could _she explain that she had no home, not in the way they thought). But she was definitely was going to explain; no fucking way was she going to be the next Albus Dumbledore, keeping her secrets so close to her chest she never told anyone anything.

"I come from another world, Thorin Oakenshield, and I'm trying to get back to it," she said. It only took a moment, then—

"Impossible!"

"Do you take us for fools?"

"Ha! Like I'd ever believe something like that!"

Laelynn sighed, and crossed her legs under her. She rolled her wand around in her hand, waiting for them to quiet down. After all, what use were explanations when the one doing the explaining wasn't being listened to.

Ori, still slightly hidden behind his brother, gained a look of dawning comprehension. As Dori turned, because the exclamations of outrage were quickly becoming slights on the other dwarves, his younger brother shifted away. As his brother quietly walked towards her, Laelynn felt Nori's eyes flitting from her to Ori, and sent what she hoped was a reassuring smile, lifting her hands to show she meant no harm. His eyes stayed on her though, even as his brother leaned against the rock next to her.

"Is this why the Lady Arwen wanted to research the idea of travel between universes?" he asked her quietly. She turned to him, a small sad smile on her face, and nodded. Ori straightened and walked back to the group of dwarves, a determined look on his features. Gandalf had managed to quiet the group, and keep the argument from turning into a full-fledged brawl.

"This is no lie," he said, moving to stand by Laelynn, "She really is from another world." Gandalf was going to say more, but a hand on his arm had him turning to see Laelynn shaking her head.

"It's alright Gandalf," she said, "If they don't believe me, they don't. Nothing I can do about it." A lesson she had learned through experience, but true nonetheless. The wizard acquiesced, though still stood by her side. She stared at him for a moment, before turning back to the others. While most of them still had expressions of disbelief, a few seemed to have accepted it as truth. Ori, Kíli and Bilbo seemed slightly more open to the idea, while Fíli seemed to be stuck between denial and acceptance.

Laelynn stared at the King under the Mountain, and Thorin stared back, a brow raised in question. "You think I'm crazy," she bluntly stated, and there was a nod of agreement from more than one dwarrow, "Fine. However, the fact remains that the solution to my problem lies in that mountain."

"And what is that solution?" questioned Thorin.

"Gandalf said there was this rock… stone… _thing _that miners used to get into caves they couldn't reach. He thought it might be able to get me back," she answered. "Gandalf said," she defended at his incredulous look, pointing to the wizard.

Thorin huffed. "And does this rock-stone-thing have a name, pray tell?" he asked scathingly. Bofur, meanwhile, looked like he was just about to remember something. Laelynn hmmed.

"I know the name was something to do with Indiana Jones," she muttered, trying to remember. 'Who' was mouthed by Thorin at Gandalf. The wizard merely shrugged.

"'Temple of Doom'? No," she murmured to herself, "'Raiders of the Ark'… Ark! That's it!" Laelynn exultantly cried, startling a couple of the dwarves, "It's the 'Arkstone'."

Thorin gave a full-body wince, his expression pained. "Why would the Arkenstone help?" he asked the wizard, stressing the name of the Arkenstone. ("I got 'ark' right," Laelynn muttered petulantly).

"It could transport ye places," Bofur answered instead, and rolled his eyes at the surprised looks he got. "I'm a miner," he defended, "Some o' the Ereborians I worked with talked abou' this gem that could get them to the hardest to reach mines." He turned to Laelynn, "I'm not going ta say I believe you, but if you were tryin' ta travel to another world, that'd be the way to do it."

Something warmed in Laelynn's heart, a small blossom of affection for the miner. She tried to send him a thank you with her eyes, when he next looked at her, and he seemed to get the message if the slight softening of his gaze was anything to go by. Óin and Bifur appeared to be considering Bofur's words, and Fíli looked like he had joined his brother in believing her. A small tear welled in her eye, and she blinked it away furiously.

"What was that you did earlier?" asked Kíli, moving towards her.

"With the silence and everything," continued Fíli, joining his brother. Laelynn studied the two, the way they actually looked interested in what she was going to say. She rolled her wand in her palm, the last light of the sun disappearing in the trees behind her.

Waving her wand, a small trail of silver sparks flew out the tip. "Magic," she said with a grin, cackling inside at the dumbfounded expressions of most of the company.

Then a howl ripped through the air.

"Out of the frying pan…" began Thorin, adjusting his grip on his sword.

"…And into the fire," finished Gandalf, "Run. RUN!"

* * *

><p><strong>Hi everyone! So it turns out I didn't update last weekend, but you have an extra-long chapter now, so that kinda makes up for it right? Right?<strong>

**I have managed to beef up my chapter store by a whole 1.5 chapters, so hooray for me. However, the biggest thing to happen this week was that I got my own laptop! I'm so happy about it, because it's mine and no one elses and it's purple. It also means I can write more as I'm not sharing the computer with my siblings. So smiles all around.**

**So... 26 reviews. I'm both sad and relieved that you haven't been able to reach the quota; sad because of obvious reasons, but also relieved because I haven't actually written anything about Laelynn's life pre-Arda I want to publish yet. So we win and lose. Still, see if you can get to 30 reviews by next week and we'll see what happens.**

**It's 2 in the fucking morning, and school starts again in two days, so I really should try and get my sleeping schedule back to normal. Hahaha, like that's going to happen. Still, a girl can dream. So please don't stay silent; comment, even if it's to point out plot holes and the like**


	10. The Eagles have come to save the day

They tumbled and slipped down the slope. Laelynn gasped as she tripped, and a Warg sailed over her head, landing and turning on her with a snarl. It ran at Bilbo, who held up his sword and looked shocked as the creature ran headlong into the waiting blade.

It fell to it's side, dead, Bilbo's sword still buried in it's forehead. She ran past him, slicing the throat of one of the Wargs who was foolish to come close to her. They reached the edge of the tree line, and Laelynn shuttered to a stop when she saw the drop below.

"Into the trees!" yelled Gandalf, already halfway up the pine at the edge of the cliff. She took a running leap at the nearest tree, and pulled herself up onto the lowest branch. She climbed higher, until the branch under her feet gave a small creak of protest. "Come on, climb! Bilbo, climb!" The wizard continued to yell, and Laelynn turned to see the hobbit still trying to remove his sword from the Warg's skull. She moved her sword to her left hand and pulled out her wand.

"Relashio," she called, and a jet of purple light flew from her wand, releasing the sword from the skull. Bilbo stumbled back and nearly dropped his sword, then looked around for the other dwarves, who were mostly up the tree at that point.

Dwalin (still on the ground) picked him up and threw him to Kíli above, eliciting a strangled yelp of protest from the hobbit. He then swung himself up into the tree just as the first Wargs entered the now-empty space.

The circled the bases of the trees, and Laelynn swallowed down the fear she felt, pushing it behind her shields. An orc rode in on one of the Wargs, the mangy brown creature whining under his weight. His pale skin was crisscrossed with scars in precise pattern, and an iron claw was stuck in the stump of his left elbow.

"Azog?" Thorin breathed in shock from a tree near her. _So this is the Pale Orc_, she thought.

A cruel smile snaked across the creature's thin lips. "_Do you smell it_?" he rasped, his voice sending a chill through her bones as he spoke a tongue so foul she would never repeat it, "_The scent of fear_?" He paced on his Warg, the small amount of moonlight glittering off his pale skin, before he spoke again, "_I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain_."

Laelynn's mind wandered back to the conversation she'd had with Gandalf nearly a month ago, when he'd said the Thorin hadn't been told the secret of the stone before his father was killed. Seeing the look of helpless disbelief on his face, she wondered if there was more to it then the old king dying suddenly. Azog lifted his claw and pointed it at Thorin. "_That one is mine_," he snarled, "_Kill the others_!"

The other Wargs streamed forward at his command, faster and thicker than blood from a wound. The ran at the trees, and the great pines protested the assault with creaks and groans. Laelynn clung to her branch as the tree shook, the wood beneath her feet cracking. The snarls of the Wargs and the snapping of their jaws filled the air, while Azog looked on with unholy glee.

There was a cry from the tree farthest from the edge, and she turned to watch in horror as the roots wrenched themselves out of the soil. Dry earth flew into the air as the tree fell against the one next to it. Which fell against the one next to it.

Like a row of dominoes the trees fell, and Laelynn's shrieks joined the yells of the dwarves and the snarls of the Wargs in the air. The company was jumping off their trees as they fell, and as the roots of her own began to leave their home in the earth, she steeled herself. The smooth wood of her wand in one hand, the soft leather pommel of her sword in the other, Laelynn jumped to the branches of the tree next to hers, where the entire group now hung from branches, staring at the orcs.

A blur of light flew past her left ear, and Laelynn turned to see Gandalf passing out flaming pine cones to the others. Looking to the ground again, she saw how affected the Wargs were by the flames. "Incendio!" she yelled, and a stream of fire flew from her wand to the ground, catching easily on the dry brush. The Wargs were yelping, trying to avoid the attack, and many retreated with their fur on fire.

Suddenly, the tree's roots began to break free of the earth, and the great pine started to fall off the cliff edge. The cries of the dwarves, which before had been victorious, were now startled and surprised. "Arresto Momentum," she cried, wand pointed at the trunk. The tree slowed in its fall, and stopped parallel to the ground.

Laelynn stumbled and fell back onto the tree trunk, only wrapping her arms around a branch saved her from falling. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ori lose his grip and fall, and twisting to see him, she saw he'd managed to grab hold of Dori's foot and was hanging on for dear life. The eldest Ri brother lost his grip on the branch, and only Gandalf's quick action saved the two from certain death.

The fires they had lit (which seemed like _such _a good idea at the time) were creeping closer and closer to the trunk. The Aguamenti charm was on her lips, when Thorin pulled himself up from the branch next to her, glaring at Azog. Laelynn shared a look with Bilbo across from, and saw her own disbelief mirrored there. He stood up himself, and took her sword and wand so that she could stand up as well.

Taking them back, she turned to see Thorin running at Azog. The orc was smiling cruelly, and as Thorin approached he reared his Warg and jumped at him. The King under the Mountain was clipped by the beast and fell to the ground, winded. Azog swung round, and his Warg clamped its jaws around Thorin, shaking him, before tossing him to the ground.

"No!" yelled Dwalin, moving to help. His branch broke under him as he tried to stand, and he was forced to hang on and watch helplessly. Bilbo had already moved forward to help Thorin while she stood transfixed by the scene before her. The cries of Dori and Ori behind her had Laelynn tighten her grip on her wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa," she turned and said, swishing her wand and flicking it at Ori. The scribe gave a shout of surprise as he felt himself being lifted into the air and placed on the trunk in front of Gandalf, and his brother reacted the same way. She worked as quickly as she could, moving to get every member of the company onto the tree trunk.

When her task was complete, Laelynn turned to see Bilbo standing guard over Thorin's fallen figure. The hobbit was ineffectually swinging his sword at three advancing Wargs, trying to keep them away from Thorin. Dwalin ran forward with a cry, the other dwarves following his lead. Laelynn shrugged to herself before hefting her sword in one hand, wand in the other and joining them.

She ran to join Bilbo while the other dwarves took care of the rest of the orcs. He had run at Azog, only to be tossed aside by the Warg like a rag doll. His sword had skittered away, and he was defenceless against the advancing beast. Laelynn ran forward and leapt with a cry, swinging her sword in a deadly arc.

The head of Azog's Warg bounced along the ground, rolling to a stop next to Thorin. The Defiler's face twisted with hate. "So," he snarled at her, "This is the brat my scouts said joined the dwarves. Whatever they may have promised you, the only thing you will get is death." _Oh __**shit**_, she thought, as Azog gestured for a nearby Warg to attack her. The beast growled at her, teeth snapping as it slowly advanced—

The Warg had vanished. Laelynn looked on in befuddlement, and gasped as she saw Eagles of Manwë carrying Wargs and orcs to the edge of the cliff and dropping them. She had read about the Great Eagles in Rivendell, and how they had kept orcs and goblins from Gondolin during the First Age.

Her thoughts were interrupted as one of the Eagles picked her up in its claws. Laelynn shrieked in alarm as she was dropped over the empty space past the cliff edge, and only stopped when she landed on the back of another Eagle. Turning back, she saw the other members of the company getting the same treatment she had. Only when she counted all 15 did she face forward again, and loosen her hold on feathers she hadn't realised she was holding.

* * *

><p>On the back of the Eagle, with the rising sun just shining on her face, Laelynn felt more at peace then she could ever remember being. She stretched out her arms to either side, sighing in contentment at the feeling of wind blowing past her. In her world, her chances at flying had been few and far between, so much so that she could count each instance on her fingers and still have a hand to spare.<p>

"Thorin," cried someone (she thought it was Fíli), breaking the quiet. Turning, she saw a deathly still figure being carried by an Eagle. The great bird had also managed to pick up his sword, she noticed.

They landed not much later, on a large rock shaped like a bear. She couldn't tell whether or not it was carved to look like one, or if it had occurred naturally. "Thank you," Laelynn said to the bird that had carried her once she slid off. "And farewell, wherever you fare, till your eyries receive you at your journey's end." The book in Rivendell had listed the correct farewell to give one of the great beings, and she now used it to express her thanks.

The Eagle seemed a bit surprised that she knew the correct farewell (though she couldn't be sure. Expressions are very difficult to make out on the faces of birds), but replied in turn. "May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," they said, and soared into the wide open sky.

The other Eagles disposed of their passengers on the rock, and glided into the air once more. Thorin was placed carefully on the rock, Orcrist falling to his side. Gandalf moved closer to Thorin, and muttered as he gently moved his hand over the dwarf. Laelynn joined the crowd around the two, and gasped as she saw the state Thorin was in. His armor had been pierced by the Warg's jaws, and the torn flesh was bleeding sluggishly. But before her eyes, the wounds started to heal slowly, and Laelynn sucked in a silent breath as she watched Gandalf work.

What felt like hours later (though it couldn't have been more than half a minute) Thorin's eyes fluttered open, and Gandalf sagged against his staff in relief (though it could also have been fatigue). "The Halfling?" he breathed out the question, and the crowd around Thorin backed away a bit to give him a chance to sit up. Bilbo stood by Gandalf's side, watching Thorin with open worry in his eyes.

Thorin struggled to his feet (Dwalin and Kíli helped him up, and once he was standing he shook them off), and turned to Bilbo. "You," he growled, "What were you doing; you nearly got yourself killed." The relieved atmosphere of moments earlier had vanished, "Did I not say you would be a burden?" he questioned rhetorically, walking towards the hobbit, "Did I not say you had no place among us?"

Poor Bilbo was trying to stutter out an answer. Laelynn was ready to tear the dwarf a new one; king or not, he was being a right dick to Bilbo. Thorin stood in front of the hobbit, and stared down at him. "I have never been so wrong in all my life," he said suddenly, and hugged Bilbo.

._..Wait __**what**_?

The dwarves cheered, and Gandalf smiled at the two. As Thorin released Bilbo from his hold, he looked into the distance. Bilbo followed his gaze, "Is that…" he began, and the group moved to the top of the rock. Laelynn saw in the distance a solitary peak, while behind it the sky was awash with pink and gold.

"Erebor," said Gandalf, leaning on his staff, "Last of the great dwarven kingdoms of Middle Earth. Laelynn looked around the company, and many of their faces held undisguised longing. Fíli and Kíli and Ori didn't have that same look of bittersweet remembrance, but one of anticipation.

"Our home," breathed Thorin.

A bird twittered as it flew past, doing a graceful loop before continuing its journey towards Erebor. "The birds are returning to the Mountain," said Óin, adjusting his ear trumpet.

"We'll take it as a good omen," said Thorin, still looking at the Mountain with a smile on his face.

"You're right," Bilbo agreed, "I do believe the worst is behind us."

As Bilbo finished speaking, Laelynn silently groaned and resisted the urge to bury her head in her hands. _You've jinxed now_, she thought sadly, _and I was __**so **__looking forward to peaceful times ahead_.

* * *

><p><strong>So here's chapter 10, and we've finally finished the first movie. I sadly don't have the Desolation of Smaug with me for reference, but maybe that'll actually make me start writing more original stuff. So let's hope for that.<strong>

**My muse seems to be in hiding; I hope they come back before I need to post the next chapter, but school and other things have driven them away. I _will_ try to update next Saturday, but it might not happen. Just a warning. (If I don't update next week I promise I'll update the week after.)**

**So... 29 reviews. Twenty. Nine. We were _one review_ away; come on guys. Lucky for you, the readers on Wattpad fulfilled their challenge, so there _will_ be a oneshot about the Wizarding World of this universe soon. Keep your eyes peeled, it'll show up eventually.**

**I will hopefully see you next Saturday, and if not then definitely the one after. Adios!**


	11. Lodgings can be found with the bear man

Thorin wanted to continue to the mountain immediately, but Óin grabbed him and told him to _sit down now, you were thrown around by a Warg_. He was able to convince the healer to at least descend from the rock first, and it was not without a bit of grumbling that the Company tried to find a way to get down.

"While I'm not ungrateful for their help," said Laelynn to Bilbo as they searched for a path, "I do wish the Eagles had dropped us somewhere a bit more convenient."

The hobbit gave her a resigned smile in return. "Well," he said pragmatically, "Beggars can't be choosers." They continued to look, until Bilbo saw a small path. It was small and narrow, and some parts had crumbled away, but it was the only path they could find. Going back to Thorin, they informed him of their discovery.

"Maybe the wizard could fix it," muttered Óin loudly as he moved to help Thorin stand. As Gandalf explained to the healer that he couldn't just 'fix the path', Laelynn slapped a hand to her forehead. She moved back to where Bilbo had seen the path, ignoring the hobbit's questions. The wizard might not be able to fix the path, but _she _was certainly able.

"Reparo," she intoned, waving her wand in a circular motion. The dwarves watched as the path fixed itself, stones and rocks melding together so securely there was no trace of a join or seam. Laelynn re sheathed her wand and started to walk down the rock face.

"Aren't you coming?" she turned and asked, before continuing. Gandalf giggled (Laelynn was as freaked out as everyone else) as he walked after her, and the dwarves trailed behind him looking at the rock under their feet with distrust.

"S'not natural," Dwalin muttered to his brother as they walked, "Stone shouldn't join together like metal." Despite the doubts of the dwarves, the rock path didn't crumble into nothingness and let them fall to their deaths, though it was still a relief to be on solid ground once more.

* * *

><p>"Where are we going now Gandalf?" asked Bilbo once they sequestered themselves in a cave at the foot of the Carrock (as Laelynn had learned it was called).<p>

"I mean to take you to the house of a friend of mine," replied Gandalf, taking out his pipe and lighting it. He blew a smoke ring, then a smaller one that flew through the middle of the larger, before continuing. "After that, I will accompany you to the edge of Mirkwood. There is where I will leave you, as I have come far further on this quest than I meant to originally."

His statement raised a lot of protest from the dwarves and Bilbo, while Laelynn sat off to the side on a rock and scraped some mud from the heel of her boot with her knife. "Enough!" roared Gandalf, effectively shutting up the dwarves, "There is a job I must complete, and you will do well to travel without me for a while."

He would not be moved on the matter, no matter how much the dwarves protested. Laelynn sighed (and she did seem to be doing a lot of that lately) and stood up, moving to start a fire as the dwarves were too busy arguing with Gandalf (again). She cast the spell for bluebell flames, and began pulling some dried meats (if her stay in Rivendell had taught her anything, it was vegetables were a big 'no' for dwarves) from her neck pouch.

No one noticed until after Gandalf had shut down every argument the dwarves could come up with to convince him to stay, when Thorin barked an order for Óin and Glóin to start a fire, and his nephews to get something to eat. They stared at her in shock, and she rolled her eyes. "Someone had to actually set up camp while you badgered Gandalf about staying," Laelynn said defensively, "You don't have to eat if you don't want to."

That had the Dwarves descending on the food she had, and Laelynn was happy to pass most of them to Bombur to distribute. She sat down next to the fire, and stared into the flames as she let her thoughts wander. No sleep since the night in the cave meant she had no clue what was happening in her world, and the thought of going back only to find a pile of dead bodies frightened her. _Though really_, said a voice in her head, _where on earth do you get these ideas? They're probably just fine, so stop moping_.

Once the dwarves realised she'd gotten all the meat from her pouch, it was all she could do to plead exhaustion and promise to answer the next day. Although, despite her tiredness, when the dwarves were settling down to rest she cast more than a few cushioning and warming charms by them, and only sent small smiles to the few dwarves who sent her a grateful look. She snuggled into a sleeping roll, and hoped that whatever dreams she had would quell her fears.

* * *

><p>It took them a week to get to the house of Gandalf's friend. True to her word, she'd explained the spellwork on her pouch as best she could. The two princes had been fascinated, and Ori had sat to the side, scribbling away in a journal he had. Though, letting them hold it was a mistake, as the pouch had been passed around every member of the camp, each of whom just <em>had <em>to try it out — to see if it was a hoax or not, obviously. Laelynn only got it back a full day after letting go of it, and she hurriedly placed it around her neck away from sticky fingers.

As the week passed, Laelynn found herself becoming acquaintances with some of the dwarves. Fíli and Kíli would talk to her as they walked, wanting to know as much about her world as they could. Ori would walk nearby when they did this, scribbling everything she said in a journal he had. When she asked why he had it, he gave her an indulgent smile. "I'm the scribe," he had replied, "If I'm not writing everything down, what should I be doing?"

When it was time to set up camp, she found her bluebell fires popular, as they didn't need fuel and didn't let off any smoke. She would sit by the fire with her dinner, and more often than not Bifur would join her. Most of the time they would sit in companionable silence, yet sometimes his cousins would join them and on those nights they would converse more than the occasional hand gesture or eye roll (usually at one of the princes' antics).

Gandalf had warned them immediately against hunting for any sort of meat while in Beorn's lands (because that was the name of his friend), as the man was a skin-changer.

"What's a skin-changer?" Bilbo had questioned, wheezing a bit as he tried to keep up with the strides of the much taller wizard.

"As the name suggests, it is a man who can change his skin," the wizard had answered, once again smoking on his pipe. "Beorn sometimes takes the form of a great black bear, and other times that of a man."

"Like an animagus?" Laelynn had asked, moving closer. Gandalf had looked at her with a confused expression. "A person who can change into an animal at will," she'd elaborated. The wizard's expression had cleared.

"Slightly like that, yes," he'd said, and they'd continued walking.

When they reached Beorn's house, it was surrounded by a tall thorny hedge. Even the tip of Gandalf's hat didn't clear the top of it as he paused to speak. "Now," he said authoritatively, "You wait here, then come in pairs every five minutes. I leave it up to you to choose your pairs, but one of you will be last along. Come along Bilbo, Laelynn, there is gate along here somewhere."

With that he started walking, leaving the girl and the hobbit to scramble after him while the dwarves divided themselves into pairs. They entered via a low wooden gate, and started walking to the house in the middle of the clearing. Bilbo seemed entranced by the place, while Laelynn looked around with slightly widened eyes as a blackbird flew towards the house.

Gandalf strode to the house, and standing on the steps was a giant of a man (Laelynn immediately thought of Hagrid), his ebony face surrounded by thick black hair and beard, and golden eyes framed by crow's feet.

"So these are the intruders," he said to the bird, who was on his shoulder, before laughing a deep, rolling laugh. "They don't look dangerous," he rumbled, before jumping off the step and walking to the trio.

"Who are you?" he growled, all traces of levity gone. _I thought he was a friend_, she thought, as Gandalf straightened to his full height and pulled Bilbo out from where he was trying to hide in the wizard's robes.

"I am Gandalf the Grey," he said, the stone in his staff glowing for a moment.

"Never heard of him," grumbled Beorn. Gandalf looked taken aback, and it was all Laelynn could do not to start laughing (Bilbo seemed to have the same problem). A few giggles did escape though, which brought the attention of the man onto her. "And who and what might you two be?" he asked. Gandalf looked like he was going to answer for them, so she quickly shot a stinging hex in his direction. The wizard jumped and scowled at her, but she only grinned angelically before turning back to Beorn (who was chuckled unrepentantly even as Gandalf glared at him).

"I'm Laelynn," she said, and when it was obvious Bilbo wasn't going to answer she did it for him, "And this here is my friend Bilbo, a hobbit from the Shire." Bilbo bowed to Beorn, whose eyes twinkled with laughter.

Gandalf took that moment to slide back into the conversation, "My travelling companions were waylaid by goblins while travelling over the Misty Mountains."

Beorn had an expression of interest on his face. "Tell me more," he said, and Gandalf launched into a tale about the company's journey, starting at a meeting at Bilbo's home. The story was intersected by the arrival of the dwarves, whom Beorn didn't seem to mind that much in favour of hearing the rest of the story.

It was this way Laelynn learned of the dwarves' journey before she met them (though if she was being honest once she was showed up in the tale she stopped paying attention).

By the time Gandalf had finished the story every dwarf had arrived. Beorn laughed at the deception. "A fine tale," he said, "The best I've heard in a long while. For that, you at least deserve dinner and a place to rest for a while."

The group relievedly tromped into Beorn's home, and at the sheer size of everything made Laelynn pause for a moment. The furnishings were mostly wood, and the dining table Beorn led them to was low and long and took up the entire room it was in.

They sat themselves down at the table, and from the kitchen dogs on their hind legs entered. Carrying platters of food in their paws (she didn't even want to think about the logistics of it), they set the table, then joined them at it. On Laelynn's left was a greyhound, while on her right there was a sheep. She just pulled in her elbows and ate. The dwarves and Bilbo looked a bit more uncomfortable, and Ori was squeaking whenever his elbow brushed against the ram net to him.

After the meal was over, Beorn had some of his animals bring in blankets for the company to sleep on. "I will see you in the morning," he said in his rumbling voice, standing near the door, "Do not leave the house until the dawn." Laelynn wanted to ask why, but one look at the seriousness of his expression had her biting down her question. He left then, shutting the door behind him with a muted thud.

The dwarves broke off into groups, settling by the fire and pulling things out of their pockets to play with. Gandalf had pulled out his pipe and was blowing smoke rings with Bilbo. Most of them didn't stay rings for long, the wizard turning them into ships and butterflies and all sorts of unrelated things and sending them through Bilbo's own smoke rings (Laelynn thought he was only doing it to show off, or to get the hobbit to pout. It was probably both).

Some of the dwarves were pulling out instruments, and soon they were singing quietly. Laelynn felt calm and content as she sat by the fire, listening to the deep timbres of the dwarves voices. The songs had varied topics, but the tone of the songs were kept the same: low and soulful, lulling her into a doze.

"Laelynn?" asked Ori. She blinked and looked around, noticing how quiet it was without the music. Ori was still looking at her expectantly.

"Could you repeat that?" she asked him, a small stain of red on her cheeks showing her embarrassment at missing the question.

"I asked if you would sing us a song," the dwarf said, looking at her with hopeful eyes. If she looked at the others, Laelynn knew she would see the same expression in some of their eyes. Her blush spread from her cheeks to cover her entire face, and Laelynn wanted to hide her head in her hands.

She didn't sing in front of people. She _was _part of the Hogwart's choir, but that was a group, where she blended in and wasn't noticeable. But… Ori's face seemed to fall further with every second she didn't answer, his large brown eyes starting to water. She wondered idly how his brothers were ever able to say no to him.

"Alright," she said, straightening, "Just a warning, my singing voice is terrible." Her last-ditch effort to get out of it was met by a few chuckles, but these melted away in light of anticipation. Laelynn hmmed, trying to think of a song she could sing, and immediately thought of the song Professor Flitwick had had them learn at the end of term. It was not a happy tune, but the other songs she knew by heart didn't work without a group (and sometimes an accompanying toad choir). Clearing her throat, she began to sing, letting herself get lost in the haunting melody.

"_Carry my soul into the night  
><em>_May the stars light my way  
><em>_I glory in the sight  
><em>_As darkness takes the day_

_Ferte in noctem animam meam  
><em>_Illustrent stellae viam meam  
><em>_Aspectu illo glorior  
><em>_Dum capit nox diem_

_Cantate vitae canticum  
><em>_Sine dolore actae  
><em>_Dicite eis quos amabam  
><em>_Me nunquam obliturum_

_Sing a song, a song of life  
><em>_Lived without regret  
><em>_Tell the ones, the ones I loved  
><em>_I never will forget_

_Never will forget_."

There was silence when Laelynn finished. The jovial mood from earlier had gone, and she knew she was the cause. Standing, she uttered a soft goodnight before letting her feet take her to her small bed, aware but uncaring of the eyes on her back.

As she lay on her side and let her thoughts drift, the dwarves began to sing again. Gone were the ballads from earlier; Thorin was singing a lament, and Laelynn let herself drift to sleep on the tales of prosperous dwarves and the ravages of dragon fire.

* * *

><p><strong>Hello! Yes, I'm sorry I haven't updated until now, but the earth doesn't stop spinning because I want to write fanfiction. Neither do teachers stop giving out homework and setting <em>more<em> Controlled Assessments. I _really_ don't like English, especially when the title of our essay is crap and wouldn't make sense even if it worked in a perfume factory: _"Explain some of the ways in which Steinbeck makes the characters' reactions to the dream of 'livin off the fatta the lan' so revealing."_ No sense whatsoever, and I now officially hate 'Of Mice and Men' (the book, not the band, or my friend would disown me).**

**I wondered for a while if I should keep the song. I don't really like it when I find a song in the story I'm reading, but that just shows what a hypocrite I am. The song Laelynn sings is called 'In Noctem' and is actually from the Harry Potter movies. It's from a deleted scene from 'The Half-Blood Prince', before Snape kills Dumbledore (oops... spoilers?), and the Hogwarts choir sings it as the sky is all stormy and stuff. It's really haunting, so if you have a minute (literally it's only a minute long) please please please search it up on YouTube.**

**I used Google Translate to find out what the Latin means, so sorry if there are any mistakes, but here is the Google Translate certified translation of the Latin lines in the song:**

**_Carry my soul into the night  
>Stars light my way<br>Glory in the sight  
>While it takes the day<em>**

**_Song of life  
>Without regret<br>Tell the loved  
>I'll never forget<em>**

**I can't do regular updates anymore. I won't apologise, because I should really get a life outside of the internet, but this is just a heads up. I will try and update often, I promise, but sometimes life happens, and time runs away from me.**

**What I can say though is that the oneshot in this universe is nearly complete, as is a second one, so keep an eye out for those. When it is I'll post some kind of notice in the author's note on whichever chapter I post after, so rest assured you'll find out about it.**


End file.
